The New Pet 3: Water of Life
by Blueroan
Summary: Carlisle is summoned to Peru by Benjamin after something unusual happens to Sarah. Will the good doctor be able to unravel the mystery of the Water of Life in time to save his youngest daughter? New questions and dangers for our favorite immortal family.
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE: I do not own or have rights to Twilight!!!**

**My attempt a a story in first person. Takes place six years after Ben and Sarha's wedding. There are no POV notations but you're either in Carlisle's head or Sarah's Hopefuly I'm good enough as a writer that you don't get confused.**

**updated with the beta-ed version 09/09/09**

**Enjoy!!**

**Second Note as of 9/14/09:**** I decided to go ahead with this story so I will be updating it. I'm going to keep it in first person so if you have trouble following POV please let me know and I'll add notations otherwise I'll assume your following with no trouble. Also, if you've read this as previously posted, Ch 1&2 are the original texts, just split. Nothing new until Ch 3 . . . sorry.**

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**The New Pet 3: Water of Life**

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**Chapter 1**

**The Beating of Her Hideous Heart**

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_Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! --no, no! They heard! --they suspected! --they knew! --they were making a mockery of my horror!-this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! and now --again! --hark! louder! louder! louder! louder!_

_"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! --tear up the planks! Here, here! --It is the beating of his hideous heart!" _

_The Tell-Tale Heart_

_Edgar Allan Poe_

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Esme and I arrived at the airport in Lima, Peru in the small hours of the morning. A rental car was waiting for us to pick up for the short drive to the hotel where our youngest daughter, Sarah, and her mate of six years, Benjamin, were staying. The trip to South America had been hastily put together after Ben's frantic midnight phone call. The things my son-in-law and long time friend told me were shocking to say the least. Never before had I heard such a wild story, and never had I heard that level of panic in Ben's voice. It chilled me to the very core.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, I retrieved it and checked the caller ID even as I unlocked the car and opened the door for my wife. Ben's name appeared on the tiny screen. I took a breath before answering it; I wanted to sound as upbeat and comforting as possible. Benjamin needed my strength.

"Yes Ben, we just cleared customs not too long ago and we're getting in the car now." I tried to sound reassuring, I hoped I'd succeeded.

"You've got to hurry, she woke up about an hour ago and she's been in a rage ever since," my friend sounded very out of sorts. "She's locked herself in the bedroom of our hotel suite and won't let me in . . ." His statement was cut short by the sound of incoherent screaming in the background and then the clatter of something fragile shattering. "If she keeps this up, she'll break everything that's not nailed down. Please, you've got to hurry Carlisle!"

"Just hang in there," I soothed, "we're on our way."

I snapped the phone closed and returned it to my pocket.

"How's Sarah?" Esme asked as I started the car and put it in gear.

When I stole a sideways glance at her, I saw the agonized expression of a mother worried sick about her child etched into every beautiful angle of her face. It nearly killed me to see her this way. It was my intention to come to Lima alone, but Esme was having none of it.

I clenched and released my jaw twice before answering. "Not good," I told her honestly. "She's awake now and, by the sound of things, she's quite hysterical."

We drove in silence to the hotel. The past six years of my life with Sarah, Benjamin, and their adopted human son, Bart, as part of my beautiful family played like an afternoon matinee through my mind. Happy times for the most part with a few rough patches thrown in just to add flavoring. In that moment, emotion overtook me; it was only one of many moments over the past three and a half centuries that I wished for tears that would never flow.

When we arrived at the hotel, I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that it took me several minutes to realize I was standing outside the door of Ben's hotel room. A quick, but not so gentle nudge from my wife had roused me from my musings. Thank goodness for vampire auto pilot. I gave Esme an apologetic smile before knocking.

The door opened moments later, Ben looked haggard as he invited us in. From behind the closed bedroom door more crashing and unintelligible yelling could be heard. I shook my head, poor Sarah was throwing the mother of all temper tantrums and, unfortunately, I couldn't truly say that I blamed her.

"Thank you for coming, this was all so sudden." Something shattered against the closed bedroom door and everyone turned in silence to look.

"Has she been like this long?" Esme asked her distress was painfully obvious.

"Ever since she opened her eyes and realized what had happened," Ben answered. In that moment he looked every bit of five hundred years old. "First she begged me to . . . well, you know. When I refused and suggested we wait for you to arrive, she went ballistic. I've seen Sarah angry before, Carlisle, but nothing like _this_."

Another loud crash from the locked room punctuated Ben's remark. This was closely followed by a knock on the suite's front door. Benjamin answered it. I wasn't at all surprised to see the two glum-faced men that stood in the hallway; one was obviously the hotel manager and the other his chief of security. They entered the room bringing an instant air of gloom with them.

"Senor," the manager began, addressing Benjamin as if _he_ and no one else occupied the room. "Several of our guests have complained of loud noises, like those of a fight, coming from this room." As if on cue, something crashed in the bedroom and Sarah yelled like a wounded animal. The manager glared first at Ben and then for the first time at me and Esme.

"Um," Ben began his cover lie hesitantly. "It's my wife, she's very upset, her grandmother died and she's only just gotten the news. I'm more than willing to pay for any damages, in cash of course if you like."

"I don't care about the damages, Senor, although you will most certainly pay for them; I care more about the comfort of my other guests." The manager narrowed his eyes, fixing Ben uncomfortably with his gaze. "Several of them have threatened to leave if this continues . . . that prospect does not make me happy."

Two more crashes and a scream came from the room. The manager nodded to his security officer and the burly man advanced toward the bedroom. I stopped him with a gentle hand and a smile.

"Excuse me, we haven't been introduced, I'm _Dr._ Cullen. Sarah is a patient of mine." My voice exuded smooth confidence. "If you're agreeable, I think we can help each other." Something thudded against the door and I smirked because it sounded like a shoe. Perhaps Sarah was running low on ammo. "Benjamin summoned me when his wife got out of hand. Obviously a little sedation is in order."

To prove my point I set my medical bag down on the coffee table and proceeded to draw up a measured dose of medication into a syringe. I capped the needle before slipping it into my pocket; Sarah hated needles and there was no use provoking further agitation in her.

"Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I'll take care of this," I dismissed them and approached the door. As my hand brushed the knob lightly I called out to her through the door. "Sarah, I'm coming in now, honey, please don't throw anything at me."

"Go away!" she shouted from within.

After taking a deep breath, I opened the door and was instantly met with my daughter's wrath for doing so, a table lamp, complete with lamp shade, sailed past me. It barely missed my head before smashing against the door frame. Sarah stood by the bed, her back pressed tight against the wall, a look of anger mixed with a healthy dose of terror was fixed on her face.

She groped over the bedside table, searching with hungry hands for something else to hurl. I closed the door behind me. I didn't want an audience for what was about to take place, I owed my daughter her dignity.

"Sarah Wiseman de Mont Virun!" I whispered her full name sternly. I wasn't angry with her, she was obviously in pain, but I hoped it would startle her to her senses.

My hopes were dashed as her groping hand found a glass ashtray and she cocked her arm back in preparation to let fly. I always thought Rose was the hot head of the family, but Sarah's rage was sheer perfection. I took stock of the bedroom and only one word came to mind, devastation. In the back of my mind, I could almost see Rosalie smiling her approval.

"Go away . . . all of you! Can't you see I'm hideous? Don't you hear it; don't tell me you can't, because I certainly can?!" She grabbed the front of her shirt with her free hand, as her face contorted in to a tortured mask of anguish. "Make it stop, Papa, _please_ . . . just make it stop!"

With that the ashtray fell harmlessly from her hand to land with a dull thud on the carpeted floor. I watched helplessly as my Sarah slowly slid down the wall until she melted into a crumpled heap. With her knees pulled tight against her chest, she began sobbing into them. I resisted the urge to rush over to her; instead I started towards her at human speed.

Could I hear it, of course I could! I'd heard it even in the hall way outside the room, I'd heard it over the sounds of Sarah's raging behind the closed bedroom door, and now as I scooped her into my arms I heard it so loudly that it was nearly deafening. It was there, but it shouldn't have been. It was there, but I didn't know why. Yes, it was there and it was unmistakable, it was the strong frantic pounding of Sarah's _beating_ heart.

"Make it stop, Papa, please make it stop," she pleaded into the folds of my pale blue oxford as I held her trembling body in my arms. Soon the dampness from her tears soaked through my shirt and I was very much afraid that if I didn't calm her, she'd cry an ocean before she was done. I wasn't fooled by her breakdown, however, I knew my Sarah all too well. The rage was by no means gone from her, and I could tell she was near the edge of exhaustion.

And her request, dear God, how that made me hurt inside, it seared in my chest like fire, I could hardly stand it. My daughter, my beautiful daughter whom I loved, was asking me, _no_ she was _begging_ me to stop her heart . . . to end her life. Of course I knew what she really meant by this, but in essence it was the same thing. I tightened my embrace just a little, kissed the top of her head, and shushed her quiet as I slipped a skilled hand into my coat pocket to retrieve the syringe. I flicked the cover off the needle with my thumb and . . . as gentle as I could, I jabbed the needle through her clothes and into the supple muscle of her hip.

"Forgive me, Kitten," I whispered into her hair as I pushed the plunger home, emptying every last drop of the sedative into her system. "This will make you feel much better, I promise."

I felt her body go rigid from the sting of the needle and then slowly relax as the medicine took hold. The frantic pounding of her heart gave way to a strong regular rhythm, and her breathing became shallow and even. When I finally felt her slump in my arms I picked her up and placed her lovingly on the bed.

I hated drugging her, but it was necessary, or at least that's what I told myself to ease my guilt.

Now the bothersome hotel manager would be satisfied and leave us in peace. Now I could do a proper physical examination on her. Now I could interrogate Ben more thoroughly and ascertain just what had happened to cause all this. Now, without my daughter's rage thundering in my ears and her piteous pleading threatening to rip open my very soul, perhaps I could put the pieces of this puzzle together and arrive at the answer . . . Why, or rather, how had Sarah gone from being a _vampire_ back to being a _human_.

* * * *

_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub._

"Make it stop, Papa, please make it stop."

I sobbed those words into the front of my father's soft cotton shirt. My tears fell like rain, saturating the fabric, but I couldn't help it and I didn't care. I knew if it didn't soon stop I'd lose ever last shred of my sanity. I couldn't stand it anymore, ever since the moment I opened my eyes it thundered in my ears taunting me, reminding me of what I once had and cackling madly about all I was about to lose.

_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. _

Sometimes, like now, it was a raging rhythm that pounded wildly out of control and at other times it had been steady and even like the constant ticking of some monstrous clock. It fact, it was a clock, ticking away the precious seconds of my existence until, like the sands of an hour glass, nothing would remain but emptiness.

_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. _

I felt Papa tighten his embrace, pulling me more fully into his eternally strong arms. His cold marble lips pressed tenderly into the crown of my head making me cry even harder. His whispers of comfort were lost in the well of my grief. Did he say he loved me; did he assure me that everything would be alright, or was it a promise to get to the bottom of this and make it all better? I couldn't hear the words exactly over the sound of my own sobbing, but for the first time since opening my eyes to this nightmare I felt the faintest stirring of hope.

_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub._

"Forgive me, Kitten," he murmured, I heard that quite clearly. "This will make you feel much better, I promise."

Was he going to do it, is that why he was apologizing to me? I remembered the agony of Cane's bite and the fiery hell that consumed my body as his venom took hold and rewrote the molecular structure of every cell in my body. I braced myself for Papa's bite, willing myself to remain still while he sank his fearsome teeth into my tender neck. It would hurt, I knew that from experience, but Papa would surely be gentler than that fiend Cane had been.

_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. _

Then I felt it, but not a bite to the neck, instead it was a stabbing pain in my hip and then a burning rush as the medicine entered my body. I tensed with shock from the bite of the needle, but as the medicine began to take effect, I felt myself begin to go limp in his arms. His embrace tightened as he took on my weight. _Why Papa_, I tried to ask but my brain couldn't make my body obey. Moments later, the steady thundering in my chest slowly began fading from my awareness as blackness overtook my world.

_Lub-dub . . . lub-dub . . . lub-dub . . ._

Soon I was drifting on the gossamer mist of the dream world and I was reliving the last moments of my happiness.

"_Sarah, where are you my love?" Ben called out to me in the dream. _

_I slowly got to my feet and shook myself off, the fall must have been some forty feet but I wasn't hurt. One of the perks of being a vampire was virtual indestructibility. I was a little embarrassed though; if I would have paid more attention to Ben's footsteps I wouldn't have fallen. Instead I was distracted by the night symphony of the jungle and by my own excitement at finding the hidden Inca ruins. I felt so . . . __**Indiana Jones **__and I smiled as the theme music began playing in my mind. _

"_Down here," I called._

_Within seconds I heard a loud thud as Ben landed near me. "Ah, a damsel in distress," he teased happily. "Would Milady like some assistance?"_

"_Where are we?" I asked. Our voices echoed all around me just like they had in the maze beneath the Volturi palace. The memory of that long ago trip to Italy made me shudder._

"_Some sort of grotto beneath the ruined temple," Ben whispered. "I wish you could see little love, this place would take your breath away . . . especially the pool; the water seems to almost glow."_

_Pool, I thought, what pool, and took a deep breath? Water had a very distinct smell that I'd learned to pinpoint because deer and other large animals congregated near it. The scent that filled my nose was confusing; the first note was mustiness which indicated we were underground. Beneath the mustiness, however, was a heady perfume that was pure ambrosia, it made me moan with pleasure._

"_I know what you mean love," he whispered. "It does smell wonderful."_

_I took his elbow and we began exploring the chamber. Ben was disappointed that there was no lost idol or other such treasure to be had. By his reckoning, someone else must have raided the place ages ago._

"_Most likely the Spanish," he insisted. Then he made a most unusual suggestion. "How about a little midnight swim my love. The pool looks to be spring fed and . . ." he paused and I heard him stir the water. "The temperature is quite pleasant."_

"_Are you sure it's safe?"I asked as the Indiana Jones music continued to play softly in my mind. I remembered each plot line in glorious detail, and usually these sorts of situations didn't bode well for Dr. Jones. "What if there's a curse or something. You know . . __**. Abandon all hope ye who swim here!"**__ After all wasn't there always a curse._

"_Silly Sara,"Ben laughed. Suddenly I found myself being tugged forward by the wrist. _

_The water was pure heaven and we swam for what seemed like hours. Finally I found a rock ledge that allowed me to dangle my feet in the blissful water while I relaxed. I settled myself on it and listened to Ben as he told me yet another fantastical story about his days with the Knights of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem._

_He must have been feeling frisky, but it didn't show in his voice. Were I not blind, I would have been able to read his mischievous intentions on his face. Without warning Ben grabbed my ankles and hauled me from my perch. So sudden was his childish act that it took me by surprise and I opened my mouth to scream, but before any sound could escape, my head sunk below the pool's surface and my mouth filled with water._

_I fought to break the surface and ended up swallowing several mouthfuls of water in the process. Ben was laughing at my fury._

"_You look angrier than a wet cat, Little Love," he giggled._

_Then the dream began to fade and the hideous rhythm in my chest slowly picked up in intensity. It beat like an Inca war drum and its cadence was the proclamation of my doom._

_Lub-dub . . . lub-dub . . . lub-dub . . ._

_**The water**_ my mind screamed from the black void of unconsciousness, it was the water. I began to struggle against the effects of whatever drug my father had given me. I had to tell Papa about the grotto and the pool.

If anyone in the world could figure out what happened to me and fix it, it was my father, my beloved Papa, the brilliant scientist and physician, Dr. Carlisle Cullen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight!!!**

**Chapter 2**

**In the Turning of Twelve Moons**

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"_Here I make a challenge," replied the Green Knight. "Among the lords both old and young that are worthy and able, I shall lay my head down – Let him strike it off if he can, with a stroke to make it bleed. Then on this day twelve months hence, let him seek me out in the Green Chapel and submit to the same blow at mine hand."  
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_**Sir Gawain and the Green Knight**_

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I picked up the phone and dialed room service. According to Esme, Sarah was starting to stir. She would awaken soon and she needed to eat something, in truth she should have already had sustenance, but in her enraged state she was too preoccupied with destruction to care about nourishment.

When the bellhop arrived with Sarah's food, I opened the door. The young man's eyes were wide with fear, obviously he'd heard about the shrieking shrew in room 302. The poor boy nearly dropped the tray when I ushered him inside and instructed him to leave his burden on the coffee table. I slipped him a generous tip in hopes that it would easy his anxiety a bit.

After he left I checked the tray to ensure the order was correct. I wasn't sure exactly what to get for her. How hungry would she be? After a 36 hour nap and nearly a decade without food, she should be ravenous. Would she still like the same foods she once had, or would all those years as a vampire have change her tastes now that she was human again?

I routinely prescribed diets for my patients in the hospital, but this situation was a bit unusual. Sarah hadn't had solid human food in her system in over seven years. In all honesty, I couldn't say I even knew what sort of a diet to put her on, should she be on clear liquids until she stomach had time to adjust, should I just start her off on a regular diet, or perhaps aim for something in the middle and hope for the best.

Eventually I decided on the latter course and ordered soft scrambled eggs, pancakes, poached pears, Jell-O, and ginger ale. It was a lot, but if she ate even a small fraction of it I would be satisfied.

"Carlisle," I heard my wife call to me from the bedroom. "I think you'd better come."

With a sigh I covered the tray and went to see what the matter was. The room was darkened, the heavy drapes pulled tight to block out the light. Esme was settled on the bed cradling Sarah's head and shoulders in her lap. The poor girl had slept quietly this way for some time; I'd even managed to convince Benjamin that it was alright for him to go hunting.

My son-in-law's eyes were as black as pitch by the time we arrived but he wouldn't leave his mate for hell or high water. If persuasion hadn't worked, I was prepared to threaten him.

As I came closer, I noticed that Sarah was no longer resting peacefully, but neither was she awake. Instead, she was tossing fitfully in Esme's lap and murmuring in her sleep.

"The water," she mumbled and her face contorted as if she were in agony.

"Does she want water?" Esme asked as I settled on the bed beside Sarah. "Maybe she's thirsty?"

I tried to look reassuring as I shook my head. She wasn't even awake; there was no way she was begging for a drink to slake her thirst.

"She's only dreaming, my love," I told her quietly. My answer did nothing to eliminate the worry from my mate's honey-gold eyes.

I reached out and stroked Sarah's cheek lightly and wished I could do something more to settle her. I could, of course, administer another dose of the sedative but I didn't want to.

"The water, the water!" This time it was almost a shout. Sarah's eyes flew open as the sound of her own voice woke her. She struggled weekly to get up but Esme and I held her down.

"Easy, Sarah, we're here," I whispered soothingly. "Relax, it's ok, you're safe."

Her respiration instantly increased as her heart slammed into a panicked gear. The pupils of her hazel eyes dilated with fear until the inky blackness nearly blocked out all the color. The terrified expression that she wore on her face when I first entered the room had returned with a vengeance. Her right hand went to the center of her chest and she clutched desperately, all be it weekly, at the comforter and sheets.

"Make it stop!" she croaked.

It was the same request she'd made earlier and in spite of having heard it before, it still shocked me. When I look up at Esme, I nearly fell off the edge of the bed. The look of absolute horror on my mate's face took my breath away.

With the exception of Bella, no one in the family had wanted this life. Sarah had settled into being a vampire well enough once she realized she could live this way without hurting humans. It was one of the easiest transitions I'd ever seen.

Yet wouldn't it be better . . . for _any one _of us, if we hadn't had to go through such a transition the first place. We were resigned to this existence, we adjusted to what was required in order to survive and we moved on. Any of us, however, would have counted it a miracle of miracles to have our humanity back. Sarah begged to lose hers again as if it were a devil's curse instead of a blessing.

"Now Sarah," I dropped my voice into the warm fatherly tone that Sarah always responded to so well, "it's going to be alright, you just need to calm down. I know you're frightened, sweetheart, but I assure you we'll get to the bottom of this."

And I would get to the bottom of it . . . just as soon as I knew what _it_ was. Never before in the history of the Vampire Nation, had a reverse transformation taken place and I had no earthly idea how or why it had happened. My interrogation of Benjamin had come up fruitless. Her diet had been admittedly exotic while here in Peru, but there wasn't anything out of the ordinary about it.

According to Ben, she hadn't had any unusual cravings. I had asked about that specifically because right after they were married she had gone through another bout of craving human food. For three months I increased the frequency of her anemia treatments from two pints of whole human blood a month to four pints a month. When I tapered her back down again, she was fine.

"It's never going to be alright," she squeaked. "I want things back the way they were. Make it stop, Papa, please."

"Honey, you're in shock right now," I assured her. It wasn't a lie, she was trembling and pale, she needed sugar in her system. "How about eating something, that's sure to make you feel better?"

It took a few moments, but she finally nodded. Overjoyed at her positive response, I scooped her into my arms and carried her into the living room; I didn't trust her to walk on her own in her present condition.

I set her on the couch and then Esme and I took our positions on either side of her, Sarah was so weak she could barely sit upright without our assistance.

While Esme pulled the coffee table closer and removed the cover from the serving tray, I pulled Sarah into me and allowed her to lean against me for support. In spite of the fact that my marble hard body must have felt positively frigid next to her warm human flesh, she didn't seem to care.

"Here, Kitten," her mother coaxed. I watched as she offered our daughter a dab of scrambled eggs. She brushed Sarah's lips lightly with the offering and my long dead heart leapt for joy when those said same lips parted to accept the morsel.

"That's it," Esme encouraged softly. "Now, how about a little bit more?"

She ate slowly, almost timidly; it was a side of Sarah that I was unaccustomed to. Only once before, since I'd come to know her, had she out right refused nourishment and that was after the Alberto incident. I was used to seeing a robust appetite in her when we went hunting together. Her reluctant feeding now frightened me, but at least she _was_ eating.

Eventually she consumed most of the eggs, some of the pears, and a few bites of the Jell-O. She wouldn't touch the pancakes or the ginger ale. The latter troubled me because humans, being comprised of over 90% water, need copious amounts of fluid in order to survive. I would have to force fluids on her, and if that didn't work, I'd have to resort to IV fluids.

As I went to pick her up and take her back to bed, she protested. I tried to quiet her and explain that she needed her rest, but she was insistent.

"I need to tell you," she whispered as I set her back down beside Esme. "It's important, I need to tell you."

"What do you need to tell us, Kitten?" her mother asked as she pulled Sarah into her embrace. Esme began to hum softly and stroke Sarah's hair soothingly, this always calmed her when she was human before.

"The water, it was the water, Papa."

This was the same phrase she had repeated in her sleep. I was going to insist it was a nightmare, induced by the heavy sedative I'd given to her, that is until she launched into the body of her narrative.

She described her misadventure as she and Ben went hunting and stumbled on the lost ruins of an Incan temple. A chill shot up my spine, Benjamin had also described this to me.

"We went swimming in the pool below the ruined temple. Ben and I were goofing off and I accidently swallowed some of the water. The water made me human again Papa," she confessed, and then she added pleadingly, "please change me back."

I decided to ignore the obvious impossibility of her suggestion; that water from an underground pool could reverse vampirism, and focus on her request. "Honey, you're human again. This is quite wonderful, it's a miracle. Don't you see that? Why would you want me to take that away from you?"

"I was happy," she answered as her eyes drifted closed. I noticed the glistening flood of silver droplets as the coming monsoon gathered itself beneath the veil of her lashes. "I'd finally gotten back everything the angry universe took away from me. I had a family that loved me again. I had a husband and a son . . . now I'm losing it all over again." I watched helplessly as my daughter began to cry, tears streaked her cheeks and dripped off her chin onto her mother's blouse. "Make it stop, Papa . . . please . . . so I can be happy again."

"Dear God!" I gasped and took a seat next to her; she thought we would stop loving her, that we would abandon her. If Esme hadn't already been holding her I would have scooped her up myself. "Oh, Sarah, my dear sweet child, you're not losing anything. Your mother and I love you dearly . . . we always have and we always will. I can assure you, your siblings feel just as strongly. As for Benjamin, he loves you more than any of us . . . in fact, he's absolutely sick with worry about you. I had to practically chase him off just to make him go hunting.

"No, no, honey, don't be afraid of losing all you've gained. We all love you, Kitten, and we're not going anywhere . . . you're just going to have to face the fact that you're stuck with us, so there!"

* * * *

It took Esme almost an hour to quiet her back to sleep. When I was sure moving her wouldn't cause her to rouse, I put her back in bed. Her mother insisted on sitting with her. I didn't object as Esme's humming always helped her sleep more soundly.

Before she drifted off I promised her that, as soon as I had an understanding of what happed to her, and if she still wanted it, I would turn her back. Hopefully, after she'd had a chance to readjust to being human again she wouldn't press me on my promises.

I now paced the suite's living room. Aside from Sarah's heart wrenching pleas, I had something else to ponder . . . her confession. Her story matched Ben's exactly, excepted for the small detail about swallowing the water. It was ridiculous really, and I wasn't exactly sure why I was giving it anything more that passing consideration. _'The water, it was the water, Papa.'_ Her words kept echoing through my head. What properties could the water possess, what compound could possibly be in that pool that would cause a vampire to turn human again?

I turned that question over and over in my mind until I was sure my head would explode if I kept it up. Finally, I fished my phone from my pocket and scrolled through the index. I found the number I wanted and pressed the call button. They lived in a very remote location and I could only hope that the call would go through . . . and that she would answer.

"Hello," the pleasant female voice filled my ear.

"Hello, Zafrina, this is Carlisle, how are you?"

After exchanging pleasantries with the leader of the Amazon coven, I told her about our situation. She listened to everything in silence.

"Have you ever heard of anything like this . . . or of the pool Sarah and Ben describe?" I finally asked and then waited expectantly for her to dismiss me like an overly imaginative child.

"I'm so very sorry, Carlisle," came her murmured answer. It wasn't at all what I wanted or expected. "Unfortunately, I have indeed heard of this pool. According to the legends, a chunk of star fell from the heavens and where it landed a pool formed. The Incan priest and astrologers went to investigate and found the water had the most amazing properties . . . it could bring life back to that which was dead. They tried it on all manner of things from dead leaves and tree branches to dead animals. Whenever these were put into the pool, life returned to them. The priest named it The Water of Life."

"So there is a cure of vampirism," I found myself whispering, "how intriguing."

"Wait, Carlisle, I'm not finished," Zafrina insisted sadly. "The gift of the water is only temporary, after twelve turnings of the moon that which was once dead . . . returns to death."

That was excellent news; I didn't really relish the idea of having to bite my daughter. "So, Sarah will go back to being a vampire after a year, jolly good, you should hear the piteous way she begs me to . . ."

"No, Carlisle," she interrupted. What my friend said next instantly busted my happy bubble. "At the end of a year, Sarah will not return to being a vampire, she will die a mortal death."

My mind reeled briefly and then everything went blank. I knew nothing and thought nothing; there was only the devastating and painful well of emptiness in the center of my being. I didn't remember sitting down, but when my senses returned to me I was seated on the floor and Zafrina was shouting through the phone into my ear.

"Where are you staying?" Zafrina asked urgently when she had my attention again.

In my incapacitated state, I barely managed to give her the name and address of our hotel in Lima. She insisted that she and her sisters would be there by this time tomorrow.

"We're coming, Carlisle," she insisted in an effort to reassure me. "We'll do everything we can to help you."

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Next chapter is something new, I promiss.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!!

**AN:** Sarah is a little off the chain in this chapter. **Potty Mouth Alert!!**

******

Chapter 3

**The Shadow of Madness**

**_____________________________________________________**

_Infirmity doth still neglect all office _

_Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves _

_When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind _

_To suffer with the body. _

_William Shakespeare_

_**King Lear**_

**________________________________________________________**

_Lub-dub . . . Lub-dub . . . Lub-dub . . ._

I burst into wakefulness for the third time since my parents arrived to help Ben take care of me. As always the maddening drum beat of my heart pounded in my ears, laughing and taunting me about the revenge of the angry universe. This was its device, fate's thundering pawn by which everything I'd come to love and cherish would be stripped from me.

Papa assured me this was not the case, that he and Mama still loved me and always would. But how could they, I was cursed, afflicted like the lepers of old, I was a pariah and I knew it. In time they would come to see this too, all of them, and they would turn their backs on me. I would have no one . . . I would be alone again.

_Lub-dub . . . Lub-dub . . . Lub-dub . . ._

I felt the familiar sting of tears and wondered when I would exhaust the well of them as they trickled once more down my cheeks. My mother's soft singing made a feeble attempt to overpower the thumping menace in my chest, but in the end her voice was no match for my heart's fiendish thrum.

I felt a sudden familiar tingling as wave after painful wave of current danced across my skin. I knew what it meant, _Red Dragons_, traditional vampires were close by. How could they not be, the haughty tune pounding in my chest would be enough to draw them from miles away . . . even continents away. Only those who were stone deaf would miss its pounding. Though I knew from experience that it was useless, I had to at least attempt to flee.

_Lub-dub, Lub-dub, Lub-dub . . ._

The cursed rhythm increased with each new pulsating wave of my radar. I tried to get up but instantly found myself restrained.

"Quiet, Kitten." Mama soothed as her delicate hand caressed my brow. "Go back to sleep, it's not time for you to wake yet."

Her words were sweet and comforting and for a moment I settled back into her arms, intent on accepting my fate quietly. Then my overly keen ears picked up the voices. The tolling cathedral bell was my father, deep concern made it sound mournful. The melodic strains of the saxophone was Benjamin, his voice was almost as solemn as a funeral dirge.

The others were lighter, females. The one that spoke the most had a voice that was filled with the sound of a thousand song birds. Of the other two, one sounded like a waterfall the other like a soft rain drizzling through a canopy of leaves. Then realization hit like a freight train, the females had come to devour me, Ben must have brought them to finish me off. Maybe he would take the bird voiced one as his new mate.

I began thrashing wildly as I sought to get up, but my mother held me fast as she called out for my father.

*****

Zafrina, Senna, and Kachiri arrived the next day as promised. I told Ben that we were expecting help, I didn't tell him about Zafrina's doom filled prophecy. To my eternal shame, I chose the cowards way out allowing the Amazonian to break the painful news to him. Ben slumped into a disheveled heap on the couch as the finality of it sunk in. I felt boundless pity for him as my imagination played out what it would be like to hear that same gloomy proclamation about Esme.

"Is there no hope then," Ben groaned. "Can't she be turned back?"

"This I can't answer," Zafrina replied. "I have only known of on other of our kind who was exposed to the Water of Life. He was young and very inexperienced, at the end of the twelfth moon he died. To my knowledge, he did not seek a return to his immortal life."

I heard the sound of moaning from the bedroom and I turned toward the door. When Esme's soothing voice and soft humming followed, I relaxed and went back to listening to Zafrina.

"There is something else you must know," the slender warrioress went on. "The Inca tested the water on humans as well . . . their slaves mostly. While death was universal, there was something else that always occurred . . . madness. Those who were slain and then brought back were driven mad by the constant drumming of their own hearts."

"Dear God," I mumbled before collapsing into a chair.

Sarah's word and recent behavior flew to the forefront of my mind. The pitiful way she pleaded with me, her fits of violent rage, her insistence that she was somehow hideous were all symptoms of her increasingly unstable mental state. How could I have missed it, I scolded myself? If Sarah were any other patient wheeled into my ER with the same erratic behavior, it would have been obvious to me. I would have sedated her, had her restrained for her own safety, checked her for the presence of illicit drugs, and then ordered a physiological evaluation.

"Carlisle?" Zafrina's voice hauled me from my mental flogging session. She sounded concerned.

"She already hears it," I answered flatly, how could I have been so blind? "She begs me to make it stop."

"According to the Inca writings," the Amazon leader began. "The longer the slave was allowed to remain dead before emersion in the water, the more quickly they descended into madness. How long was Sarah a vampire?"

"Seven years." Ben answered despondently. "The day we found the grotto was our six year wedding anniversary."

My heart sank even further; with all the commotion, I had forgotten this vacation was an anniversary present. If my calculations were correct, and unfortunately they usually were, Sarah's life would end one year hence, on the very day she and Ben were to celebrate their seventh year as husband and wife. At that thought, a new wave of pain shot through me.

"Carlisle, come quickly." Esme's frantic call pulled me from my morose. I grabbed my bag as I made my way toward the bed room. Behind me I could hear Ben, Zafrina, and her sisters following.

When I entered the room Sarah was thrashing wildly against Esme's hold. Though she was still week, if she continued in this way her mother would end up accidently hurting her. I set down my bag on the dresser and prepared to sedate Sarah again.

"You think I don't know what's happening . . . you bastard!" Sarah spat hotly.

I was appalled by what I heard coming from my daughter's mouth and I turned to glare at her. Yes, Sarah had a temper and from time to time it got the better of her, but _never_ had I known my youngest to use profanity.

"Sarah, calm down," I purred as I flicked the last air bubble from the syringe and then turned toward the bed. I was still stunned by my daughter's very unladylike behavior. "I'll have you feeling much better in a minute."

She was oblivious to me as she continued her rant. "I'm not human again for more than a few days and you get tired of me. What's the matter, Ben, are you too much of a coward to kill me yourself? So you brought home some _Red Dragon_ bitch to finish me off and take my place!" She spit her insult and her rage into empty space. Her juicy wad of spittle landed harmlessly on the blankets, but not so her vicious words, Benjamin was visibly devastated. "Go ahead bitch . . . eat me, suck me dry so my worthless bloodsucking husband can be rid of his poor pathetic human wife!"

"I think we've heard just about enough out of you, young lady!" I insisted sternly, an irritated growl rumbled deep in my throat.

All thoughts of gentleness fled me and, while I wasn't unduly rough, I plunged the needle into Sarah hip and administered the sedative as quickly as possible. She whimpered and then slumped once more into her mother's arms. I instantly regretted not being tenderer with her as I realized my irritation was not with my suffering daughter, but rather it was with myself for missing the sings of Sarah's madness.

"She thinks I want . . . she thinks I want . . ." Ben mumbled, unable to complete the statement.

I felt so awful for him. Ben and I had more than a century and a half of friendship between us and I knew him better than most. Beneath the burly warrior's exterior lived a sensitive soul guided by the ancient code of chivalry. Sarah's anger words had cut to the quick in him just as easily and swiftly as the keen edge of a blade.

"Benjamin," Zafrina whispered, compassion and concern dripped from her every word. "You cannot take to heart the things your wife says in her current state, she is not herself. It is the madness, caused by the Water. If she were in her right mind she would not say these things to you."

"I'm sure you're right Zafrina." Ben managed as he tried to pull himself together again, but the look of horror and hurt was still plainly visible. "Carlisle, I think I need to go out for some air . . . would you kindly keep watch over Sarah."

Not only did he need air, but after his mate's vicious blow, he needed distraction and a purpose. This fact could work to both our advantages. If I was going to help bring Sarah through this successfully, there were things that I need too, things like information and samples for evaluation in the lab. I called after him, stopping him in his tracks before he reached the front door.

"If you're going out," I began casually as I rummaged through my carry-on luggage. As usual, we didn't bother to unpack. "Perhaps you could do some reconnaissance for me." I pulled out the digital camera I always packed when Esme and I traveled as 'tourists'. I hardly ever took pictures, but it helped us look the part.

"There's a four gig memory card in this and it's empty." I told him as I handed him the camera. "When you come back, I want it full. Shoot pictures of every square inch of the ruins and the grotto, especially the pool and any glyphs you might find on the walls, ceiling or floor. And fill these up too, while you're at it." I added, and handed him ten empty test tubes that I kept in my bag for taking venom or blood samples.

"Senna, go with him." Zafrina nodded to her sister. "We need to know the location of this place so that we can keep it hidden. It wouldn't do for the foolish humans to stumble upon it. I can only imagine the sort of mayhem and mischief they could get up to if they had unfettered access to the Water."

*****

After seeing Senna and Ben off, I asked Zafrina if she and her sister would mind helping Esme look after Sarah. I didn't want to leave my wife alone with our daughter in her present state, but I needed to make a foray to the local hospital for supplies. The Amazon sisters happily agreed and I breathed a sigh of relief as I headed out. Sarah wouldn't wake again for several hours, but it was nice for Esme to have some moral support during my brief but necessary absence.

I returned from the hospital an hour and a half later with the fruits of my pilfering. I had several bags of IV fluid that I would start her on immediately. Because I found it necessary to keep Sarah sedated most of the time, she wasn't drinking as much as she needed to and she was starting to show signs of dehydration.

I also managed to steal several vials of medicine, more of the sedative I'd been using so heavily as well as some others. It had occurred to me after I left that, while I couldn't currently treat Sarah 'condition' until I understood it better, I could treat her symptoms and alleviate some of her suffering . . . as well as ours.

To that end I managed to get my hands on some rather potent antipsychotic medication. I had to stabilize her mental state before we could leave Peru; it wouldn't do for her to be out in public begging me to stop her heart or accusing her husband of bringing home '_dragons'_ to eat her. I wouldn't put it past some airport busy body to call the authorities and Sarah would spend the last year of her life in a dingy Peruvian mental hospital.

After exchanging pleasantries with Zafrina and her sister, I took my haul into the bedroom. _'Time for Dr. Cullen to get to work,_' I thought as I set my load down on the dresser.

"What's all that?" Esme asked.

"Hopefully, this is Sarah's salvation." I tried to sound up beat.

"You found a cure, already?" a relived smile lit Esme's heart shaped face and her voice purred with delight at the prospect.

"Not exactly," I answered sadly as I sat on the edge of the bed and proceeded to start Sarah's IV. In that moment, I would have given anything to honestly say _yes_ and keep that smile on her face. "Our Kitten is showing all the classic symptoms of a psychotic break, she's delusional, combative, irrational, and paranoid just to name a few. I'm going to treat her for those symptoms."

"But Carlisle, that's not what's _really_ wrong with her." She insisted.

"I'm aware of that." I said with a sigh. Most patients didn't realize just how often their doctors treated the symptoms of their illness and not the disease itself. "She can't go home like this Esme," for a number of reasons but I didn't go into that. "I need to stabilize her before I can take her back to the States. Once we're all home again I can take a closer look at Sarah's condition in my lab and hopefully find a solution."

*****

I woke from my sleep to a strange and eerie silence. I could tell I was alone in the huge bed, my mother was gone and that realization made me feel suddenly panicked. Where was she, where was everyone. I instantly reached for the tuning dial in my mind so that I could search for their stations and I instantly pulled back. Bone grinding pain and the most ear shattering noise filled my skull. I must have cried out because I felt a weight settle beside me on the bed.

"Easy, honey, just relax it's alright."

I recognized Papa's warm voice, but it sounded different. I let him push me gently back down into the bed. I grabbed the sides of my head and pressed my palms into my temples in an attempt to make the pain go away.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Paternal concern and a touch of frustration echoed through his voice, but it still sounded wrong. "I can't help you, if you don't tell me."

"It hurts." I groaned through gritted teeth.

"Describe the pain to me, Sarah," Papa was in doctor mode now.

That was when it hit me, what was wrong with Papa's voice . . . the cathedral bells were missing. I began to sob, partly from the pain and partly because I missed the beautiful richness of the bells in his voice.

"I hate to sound harsh, honey, but you can cry later" he whispered. "I need you to focus right now. Tell me about the pain . . . it's important."

"My head hurts . . . really bad, like the time in Louisiana before I learned to control the mental volume of my hearing." I wiped my face with the back of my hand and went on. "I can't hear anything with my gift, it's gone or something and I don't hear the bells in your voice anymore."

I heard my father take in a breath and let it out slowly. "I'll get you something for the headache." He sighed as he got up from the bed.

"What about my gift," I was confused, and the absence of the gifts I'd come to rely on bothered me more than the pain. "Why are the bells gone from your voice? I could hear them when I was human before."

There was a knock at the door and I jumped, Papa shushed me as he sat back on the bed and put four tablets in my palm. The door opened and I tensed.

"Benjamin," my father announced for my benefit. "We were just discussing Sarah's gifts, or the absence there of. Why don't you come in and join us."

I heard the faintest sound of footsteps on the plush carpet as Ben entered the room. My thoughts were hazy, but I vaguely remembered the events of the past few days . . . and my behavior towards my mate. _'You bastard!,_' the sound of my own voice cursing at my loving and adoring husband rang in my mind and I blushed with embarrassment. I suddenly found myself uneasy in his presence; surely he would hate me for what I'd done.

"How does Milady feel?" His voice sounded pained and a little uneasy, but there wasn't a single thread of hate anywhere in it. In spite of this, I was still saddened; it also sounded flat, gone was the soothing melodic strains of the saxophone.

"Ok, I guess, but I'm not quite myself." I answered honestly. Seconds later, I felt my father put a glass of water in my other hand.

"Take your medicine," Papa soothed. "The sooner you get it in you, the sooner your headache will go away."

As I swallowed the pills, another weight settled on the other side of the bed and I knew it was Ben. My hand groped over the covers, searching until I found what I sought. I grasped his hand in mine, it felt rock hard and ice cold but I didn't care.

"She certainly seems better," Ben commented to my father.

I could tell there was some secret meaning to his statement, but I couldn't quite put it together. My head still hurt, but worse, my brain felt like it was full of mud. Thoughts didn't whiz through my mind at light speed anymore; instead they came bubbling to the surface with irritating slowness.

"You're scowling, Kitten, what is it?" Papa asked softly.

"Nothing's the same, my gifts are gone, I can't hear like I used to, I don't think as fast. I feel, so exposed, so helpless . . . so vulnerable." I felt tears threaten, and did my best to hold them off.

Ben instantly had me wrapped in his huge arms making me fell even guiltier about my earlier behavior. How could I have ever said such poisonous things to this man? What sort of a wife was I to spew such hateful word at someone who loved me so truly and completely?

"Milady is well defended. Fear not, I shall not let harm come to thee." He assured me before kissing the top of my head.

My mate's words made the faintest ghost of a smile turn up the corners of my mouth and I instinctively nuzzled his chest. Then I discovered something else that was missing, I no longer smell Ben's personal scent, the intoxicating aroma of Gardenias was gone. A part of me wanted to push him away, crawl under a rock somewhere, and die, but I fought down the urge. Undoubtedly, my reaction didn't go unnoticed as I heard my father sigh.

"Sarah, you're human again and that's going to take some getting used to." Papa assured me. "As for your missing gifts, I'm afraid that's my fault. The water made you human again, but the change was making you psychotic. The medications I have you on improve you mental state, but they do so by altering your brain chemistry. For the time being, honey, you're just going to have to live without your gifts."

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Footnote:** For those of you who don't already know, Blue is _not_ a health care professional and I have no medical training of any sort. So don't get bent out of shape if Carlisle didn't treat Sarah's mental illness corectly.

Also, I've been accepted at collage just up the street from my house. I'll be finishing the degree I started _years (that's years . . . plural . . . with an **s**) _ago. I have a math placement test to study for and I meas I HAVE TO STUDY! I looked over the material, mostly algerbra, and couldn't even remember what an integer was. So you guys will likly find my posting slow for a time. Next week you should get ch 4 of Water, I have it written, but I'm still tweeking it and if your following Little Deer, you'll get ch 5 by the end of next week.

Sorry for the inconveniance.


	4. Chapter 4

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!!

Chapter 4

**Painful Truth**

**________________________________________________________________**

_What win I, if I gain the thing I seek?  
A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy.  
Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week?  
Or sells eternity to get a toy?  
For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy?_

_**William Shakespeare**_

**___________________________________________________________________**

The airport in Lima was crowded but we managed to find a secluded corner near our terminal to hunker down and await our boarding time. I watched Sarah as she snuggled into Ben's side, seeking his comfort and reassurance. It was nice to see her acting 'normally' once again. The sight of my sweet, mild-mannered daughter raging and spewing venomous words like a rabid animal was a shock that I would never forget.

Of course, I hadn't broken the truth about her situation to her yet. Ben and I agreed that we should wait until we had her home again before we did that. We would tell her together, quietly and gently. I already knew she would be devastated and a part of me wanted to just leave things as they were. It wouldn't affect the way I approached her treatment, but Ben insisted that it was dishonorable to hide the truth from Sarah.

A bigger problem was Bart. For now, the boy knew nothing. He would spend the next few days on a camping trip with his uncle Jacob and aunt Nessie and of course, Abby. This would give the family time to prepare. At seventeen, I felt Bart was old enough now to know the truth about _'dragons'_, but Ben still had some misgivings about it. It seemed a strange paradox; on the one hand he was adamant about reviling the truth to his mate and on the other, he was perfectly willing to lie to his son.

Before making arrangements to leave Peru, I felt I had one last bit of business to conduct. In an effort to prevent human abuse of the Water, Ben and I contacted the local land office and started the paper work to purchase the track of rainforest that the Inca ruins rested in. Through one of my private holding companies, I would buy the five thousand acre stretch and set it aside as a wildlife refuge. To insure the security of the ruins, Zafrina would be contacting a coven that lived high in the Andes. She would ask them to keep watch over the land and the Water.

The alarm on my watch chimed faintly and I knew it was time for Sarah medicine. Her mood and behavior had steadily been improving since I started her on treatment. Though she was still quite fragile emotionally, she was talking and voicing her feeling more and crying less.

I gave Esme a quick peck on the cheek and dismissed myself to find food for Sarah to take her medicine with. When I returned I had a bottle of Dasani in one hand and a sandwich in the other.

As I approached my son and daughter, I noticed the pensive look on Sarah's face and the worry etched on Ben's. I sighed, would the hurdles never cease. I sat down beside Sarah and placed the water in her hand as I handed the sandwich to Ben.

"What's the matter?" I asked as I opened Sarah's carry-on bag to retrieve her medicine.

"The crowd and the airplane noises are making her fidgety." Ben answered. "She wasn't like this on the way down here."

As I counted out her pills, my mind drifted back to the first time that I took Sarah on an airplane. She had been petrified, the sound of the aircraft's engines powering up for takeoff had nearly caused her to have a heart attack. Things were better on subsequent trips, on the way back from Italy and on the trip to Ireland for her wedding she was much calmer. In each instance however, there had been a constant . . . music. On that first faithful flight Edward had gifted her with an MP3 player loaded with all her classical favorites, well over a hundred songs in all. The way the soothing strains had calmed her that first time had been almost miraculous and I still found wonder in the way music affected my youngest.

"Sarah's never liked flying." I replied as I pressed three pills into Sarah's palm. "Kitten, did you remember to pack your MP3 player?"

"I think Mama packed it for me," she replied before obediently downing her pills.

I quickly found the blessed gadget in her carry-on bag. It had been a God send the day seven years ago when Edward gave it to her. Without it, I would have had to drug Sarah for her flight back to Louisiana. I checked the batteries before handing it to Ben. "The music soothes her," I informed him. "Once you two are seated, put the headphones on her and switch it on. A nice peaceful flight will be your reward."

*****

We arrived in Seattle at well past midnight, and while I was sleepy Ben and my family were as bright eyed as ever. I yawned as Ben helped me into the backseat of his Jaguar.

"You can go back to sleep as we drive." He whispered, then he gently fastened my seatbelt and snuggly wrapped me in his spar jacket.

I had slept most of the last leg of the trip between Atlanta and Seattle. Papa warned me that the medicine I was taking for my moods would make me sleepy until I got used to them.

"Are you taking me to Hope's Keep?" I asked groggily as Ben started the engine.

I loved our home; we lived in an1880's lighthouse south of the Quileute reservation. I had named our little kingdom _Hope's Keep_ the night we returned home from our honeymoon. To me the name was fitting; it was indeed a stronghold of hope.

"No, Milady," Ben answered and I felt him put the car in gear. "Your father feels it's best if you stay with him for a while. That way you'll be closer to the lab."

The lab, I thought with a sigh as I closed my eyes. Papa and Ben had been in deep conversation concerning the test that needed to be run on me while we sat through a three and a half hour layover in Atlanta. I found it mildly irritating that they talked about me as if I weren't even there. Had they always done that, I wondered?

I couldn't make out everything they said as they sometimes spoke at vampire speed and it sounded like a foreign language. I made out enough, however, to know I was going to be Papa's lab rat for some time. I also got the distinct impression that I was being intentionally kept out of the loop. There was something going on, some deep secret that I wasn't being told, that fact bothered me . . . a lot.

I drifted off to sleep again wondering what the big secret could be and woke up to find myself in Ben's arms being carried up the front steps of the Cullen family abode. I liked my parent's new house; it was a log home. My Mama had designed the house and oversaw the construction of it from their temporary residence in Oregon. They moved in just as soon as the house and the new Quileute hospital were completed.

'_Traditional and yet modern,'_ was the way Mama described it, but Alice said it looked like an Aspen ski lodge. My room, as always, was on the ground floor and it had its own private bath. Mama didn't like the idea of her 'visually impaired' daughter having to negotiate stairs all the time. She held this opinion in spite of the fact that I negotiated them at my house every day.

Mama would literally freak if she knew how often I climbed up the narrow wrought iron stairs to the light tower's lamp room all by myself just to enjoy the way the sea breeze illuminated my sound vision. A wave of deep sadness washed through me, my sound vision was gone along with my other gifts and I missed the way those golden images danced against my black velvet world.

I shook the gloomy thoughts from my head and focused on being home with the family I loved. When Mama and Papa returned from Oregon to move in, I was very surprised to find that I _had_ a room in the family home, after all, I was the mistress of my own house. To this my mother had replied sweetly, "Once a Cullen always a Cullen, my dear." Then she went on to explain that all of her children owned homes of their own and all had a place in her house.

I listened as the front door swung open and Ben crossed the threshold into the small foyer and then into the living room. I smiled at the memory of the beautiful interior, the living room and dining room comprised a single massive space; Mama called it the Cullen Great Room. There was a huge fieldstone fireplace at one end of the caverns room and a bank of floor to ceiling windows along the western wall that overlooked the forest. Except for my room, the Great Room was my favorite place in the house.

"Your finally hear." I heard my father grunt. "What took you so long?"

"Forgive me, but I tend to drive more cautiously when I have perishable cargo on board." Ben answered.

Obviously I was the perishable cargo.

"Don't take Carlisle too seriously," I heard Edward chuckle. "I used to be just as cautious with Bella when she was human."

"Excuse me, but don't you mean _overprotective_?" Bella fired back.

From what I had been told, Bella was absolutely right. In the weeks leading up to their marriage, Edward had even managed to secure an armored vehicle for his then human fiancé to drive. The car was designed for the protection of dignitaries and Hollywood superstars; it was as out of place in the sleepy little town of Forks as an elephant in the Everglades. I found the entire exchange highly amusing, and for the first time since waking to this nightmare, I laughed.

"Ah," my father sighed happily. "That sound is worth more to me than the ransom of a hundred kings. I knew it was a good idea to bring her here, Sarah needs her _whole_ family in order to heal."

Ben carried me to my room and in no time, he had me tucked snugly into bed.

"Go back to sleep now," he whispered lovingly as he adjusted my pillow. "Its three thirty in the morning, a time when most humans are snoring away."

"But I'm not sleepy now." And I wasn't, not after sleeping between Atlanta and Seattle and on the car ride home.

"Rest is good for you." Ben murmured as he planted a light kiss on my forehead.

Having my beloved so close to me in the cozy secluded confines of my bedroom . . . well technically our bedroom, had me thinking of activities other than sleep. "I know some other things that could be 'good' for me. Want to hear my list, I promise, it's short."

I heard Ben laugh and then he stretched out on the bed beside me, but to my disgust . . . on top of the blankets. "I value my existence, Milady; your father has given me a most sever admonishment, _absolutely no mischief . . . of any kind!_ Should I fail to adhere to this rule, your sweet saintly mother will rip my head off and impale it on a pike so that I might watch my own body burn. " I heard him take in a jagged breath as he shivered.

By mischief my father obviously meant sex, which was near the top of my short list. We were mates after all, a married couple of six years; it was perfectly natural for me to want such things. Still, I could understand why Papa would set such a rule, Bella nearly died after becoming pregnant by Edward.

"_Papa_ has been spending too much time with the Volturi." I teased as I sought to snuggle up to him, this in spite of the blanket that separated us. "What will they do with your head, you know . . . afterwards?"

"Well," Ben began as he wrapped one strong arm around my waist and pulled me in tight against him. "Your father did say something about mounting it on the mantel over the fireplace in the living room. I can only assume this is so he can continue to get legal advice from me without the courtesy of paying my retainer."

"I heard that." Papa's amused voice boomed from the direction of the Great Room. "Now stop chattering and let Sarah get back to sleep."

Ben kissed me lightly behind the ear. "Pleasant dreams for now, my sweetling. We'll talk more over breakfast."

*****

Once Sarah settled back down, she fell asleep quickly. This allowed poor Benjamin the opportunity for a brief, but overdue hunt. I however, spent the rest of the wee hours of the morning in my lab. I busied myself running a few initial tests on one of the test tubs of cursed water from Peru.

At around seven in the morning the house filled with the aroma of banana pancakes and the pleasant sound of Esme's light singing. I knew it wouldn't be long before Ben woke Sarah for the morning and it would be time for her to eat and take her medicine. I left what I was doing and went upstairs to freshen up for the day before joining the family in the kitchen.

I was deep in thought as I showered. Benjamin wanted to get the truth out in the open as soon as possible. To that end, Bart would be coming home in three days and we had a plan in place. Ben would meet Jacob and Bart at Hope's Keep around noon. I would arrive an hour later with the rest of the Cullen men and a large 'sweep the kitchen' pizza from Arnold's. Then when everyone was settled in and relaxed . . .

I sighed deeply as I rinsed the soap from my body, I'd tried rehearsing the rest of that scenario in my head several times and I could never get further than this point.

I'd already consulted Alice, "Bart's going to be pissed that you lied to him for so long, but he'll forgive you." She told me. "He's seventeen for crying out loud, he already suspects we're not really dragons. He only keeps up the pretense because it makes his mother happy."

It was reassuring to know that thing would work out with Bart. Unfortunately, the situation with Sarah wasn't so positive. The conversation that we would be having after breakfast would be one of the most difficult of my unnaturally long life. I couldn't seem to wrap my mind around how I was going to tell my poor sweet daughter that her life would end in a year unless I could find a way to turn her back into a vampire.

"A year," I whispered as I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

After over three centuries, one hardly thought in such brief increments of time. What was a year after all; twelve months, fifty two weeks, three hundred and sixty five days. To a human, a year could seem like forever. To me it was no more than the snap of my fingers or the batting of my eye lids and yet, that was all my Sarah had . . . unless, by some miracle I could come up with a way to change that.

"How will Sarah take the truth?" I remembered asking Alice earlier in the evening, before Ben and Sarah had arrived from the airport.

"You know her as well as anyone else," Alice replied sadly. "How do you think she's going to take it?"

I didn't require any more of an answer than that. She wouldn't take it well and there was nothing I could do about it. Her medication would keep her from sliding into the deepest pit of depression, but it wouldn't stop her being afraid nor would it keep her from crying. Suddenly my mind filled with every memory I ever had of Sarah in tears . . . they made my chest ache and I could hardly breath. Today I would add one more chapter to that sad mental montage.

I sat on the foot of mine and Esme's bed for a long time procrastinating, something I rarely did, so it took me longer than usually to dress. By the time I entered the kitchen, Esme was serving Sarah her breakfast. I gasped when I saw the load of food my wife set before our daughter.

The plate was heaped with a stack of Banana pancakes smothered in a pecan caramel sauce and topped with fresh wiped cream. Both sausage _and _bacon lay to one side of the stack and a mountain of scrambled eggs snuggled on the other. A bowl of hot grits waited on the counter for delivery along with another bowl containing chopped fresh fruit. A steaming cup of Earl Gray tea and a glass of cold milk rounded things out.

She was only one person, I thought as I shook my head and pulled out a chair to sit, what her mother placed in front of her would have easily satisfied at least three hungry lumberjacks.

"Good Lord, Esme," I whispered after taking my seat next to Sarah. "Do you think you cooked enough?"

"No actually," she answered incredulously as she smiled at me. "I was debating on whether I should make blueberry muffins too."

At this, I could only laugh.

For a time I watched Sarah enjoy her meal as I tried not to think about our upcoming conversation. When I judged she eaten enough, I gave her the pills she was to take for the morning. She swallowed them quickly and then, just as quickly, went back to waging war on her plate. To my surprise, and shock, she ate nearly everything.

As we retired to the living room, I made a mental note to discuss proper human nutrition with my beautiful mate. Though I knew she meant well, it wouldn't due for her to continue feeding Sarah like a farm hand set to plow fields all day.

In the living room, Esme, Sarah, and Ben sat on the sofa while I paced. I knew it would make the three of them nervous, but I couldn't help it. The only other time I'd felt this uneasy was when I brought Edward home and I was about to grant his mother's dying wish. I managed to still my restless moving by bracing my hands on the fireplace mantel.

I stared into the cold empty hearth and tried to gather my thoughts. Unfortunately that soot blackened empty space reminded me of the dark emptiness I would feel with Sarah's passing. I gripped the red wood mantel so tightly I heard the wood begin to splinter. I needed a distraction, _now_, before I ripped the mantel from the wall and used it for a wrecking ball to demolish the rest of the house with.

To that end, I busied myself with building a nice cheery fire to fill the cold black void of the hearth. Fire was symbolic of warmth and light . . . and hope. I would not let the blackness of despair steal my hope. At that moment I promised myself that, no matter what the weather was like, there would always be a fire, _Sarah's fire_, in the Cullen family hearth until my daughter's future was safe and secure once more.

"Papa," the sound of her voice calling to me sent a shiver of dread up my spine. "What's wrong, you're not acting like yourself and it scares me . . . did I do something?"

Despair reared its ugly head again, but I managed to beat it back until it retreated, like a weasel, into its cursed hole. I watched the fledgling flames begin to lick at the oak log I'd laid in the grate. Satisfied that, for now at least, the blackness was at bay I turned my attention to Sarah.

"You should never ever be afraid in this house, Kitten," I told her gently as I approached and knelt before her. "We are your family; this in your home, there is only love and support here for you."

I took a deep breath and watched as my assurance caused her to relax a bit. Now it was time for the difficult part. I cast a sideways glance at the fireplace, allowing the sight of the crackling blaze to stoke my own inner fire of hope. _'I will find a way,'_ I promised myself. I would move mountains with my efforts and bend Heaven's ear with my silent petitions. If Sarah's life slipped from the bonds that held her in this world, it wouldn't be for the lack of my trying to keep her here.

"Sarah," I began slowly. I knew basically what I wanted to say, but the same phrase put ten different ways whizzed through my head. I stilled my mind and continued. "There are some things I need to tell you, things that your mother, Benjamin and, I thought you shouldn't hear until we had you safely at home."

"Ok," she squeaked. Her face was a mask of confusion and dread.

'_Your scaring her Cullen,'_ the grumpy voice of my father scolded in the back of my mind. He was right, and so I reached out and took Sarah's hand lightly in mine. Ben had his arm wrapped around Sarah's shoulders and Esme's hand rested reassuringly on our daughter's thigh. Hopefully it would be enough for her to know she wasn't alone, that we cared.

I gave her hand a gentle squeeze, repressed the urge to tell her for the millionth time how much I loved her, and launched into the worst of things.

"Before we left Peru, I asked Zafrina if she knew anything about the pool or the temple that you and Ben described. She was familiar with the Inca legends and was able to give me quite a lot of information on it."

"That's good . . . right?" Sarah asked hesitantly. I squeezed her hand again.

"I suppose, in a way, yes," I replied and glanced quickly at the fireplace before continuing. "Unfortunately, not _everything_ she told me was good. The pool is known as The Water of Life. The water has the power to bring anything dead back to life, but at a terrible cost."

I swallowed hard as I glanced first at Ben and then at Esme, both of then nodded their encouragement.

Nothing in my life to date was as difficult as what I was about to do. I had told countless patients that they were dying, I had had the unpleasant duty of telling parents that their child had passed, and I had told many a wife or husband that their spouse was dead. Yes, over the course of my unnaturally long career I had been the bearer of every conceivable manner of ill tidings, but all of it paled in comparison to telling my own daughter that, barring a miracle, she would die in a year.

I took a deep breath and lowered my gaze. _'Coward,'_ I chided myself, I didn't even have the nerve to look her into those sightless hazel eye as I delivered the news.

"After the turning of twelve moons," I began in a neutral tone. I found myself repeating it exactly the way Zafrina had said it to me. "That which is dead returns to death. In a year, you'll die a mortal death." Then I looked up and meat her horror filled eyes.

I reached up with my other hand to stroke her cheek as I dropped my voice into the warm fatherly tone she loved so much. "Honey, I want you to know that I'm not going to stand ideally by and let this happen. I'm going to do everything I can to save you, I . . ."

I stopped in mid-sentence as I watched Sarah's expression change. She went very pale suddenly and she grimaced as if I'd run her through with Benjamin's broad sword. Then I noticed a blue tinge starting to appear around her lips and realized something was very wrong.

"Breath, Kitten," I whispered, but she didn't respond. I grabbed her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. "Breath, Sarah," I demanded it a bit more sternly this time.

Moments later she took several quick jagged breaths, clutched had abdomen, and doubled over her knees. Then the wailing started. The last time I hadn't heard that awful sound was the night Charlie came to tell her that her aunt Olivia had been found murdered. I left her in the comforting care of Benjamin and Esme and went to the table in the foyer where I kept my bag.

I returned a few minutes later with a sedative for her, there was no reason she should suffer so. As I took the syringe from my pocket Esme glared at my fiercely. I wasn't sure what I'd done to incur her silent wrath so I flashed a brief reassuring smile. The smile only served to turn her fierce glare into a wicked scowl.

"Don't you dare," she growled as I knelt once more before our daughter.

I was a little shocked, my gentle Esme hardly ever growled. "Love, she's suffering," I finally insisted when my shock wore off some.

"Yes, but she's not out of control," my mate corrected. "She needs to get this out of her system and the sooner the better. Grief is like poison, if it's not properly delta with it kills from the inside out."

"But, love, look at her," I defended myself. "It doesn't have to be like this, just let me . . ."

"Leave her alone, Carlisle!" Esme growled again, this time more forcefully. I instinctively moved away.

In a gentler tone she added, "You're her father, you love her and you're uncomfortable with watching her pain, so you want to give her something to make her pain stop. We may not like seeing what she's going through, but she needs this . . . tears have healing properties, my love, thrust me."

I sighed, my mate had a point. I turned my gaze to Ben, "You're her husband it's your call."

"As much as I detest watching my beloved cry, Esme has a point, tears can cleans the soul," Ben replied. I could see his obvious anguish, but I could also hear the love in his voice. "Unless she get out of control, like she did at the hotel, let her cry her fill."

With a solemn nod, I put the syringe back in my pocket and took my place in the circle of love around Sarah.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I took a break from yucky math and decided to give you guys a treat. Now its time to go back to the yucky math!

FYI; I recently took my first airplane trip, cross country from Atl to Ca. Crusing altitude isn't so bad, but I totaly agree with Sarah, take off and landings suck!


	5. Chapter 5

Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight!!

Chapter 5

**Blood and Tears**

**________________________________________________**

"_Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break."_

_William Shakespeare_

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I cried for what seemed like hours. I cried until my throat hurt and my eyes hurt and my head hurt. I cried until my body ached from the violent spasms that rocked my frame. I cried until I had no tears left and I could only manage dry sobs. I cried until I was overcome with exhaustion and then . . . I cried some more. Through it all Ben, Mama, and Papa stayed with me. They served as my anchor; petting me, encouraging me, and whispering their love for me.

At some point the worst of my grief subsided and Ben scooped me up and carried me toward the back of the house and our bedroom. First he took me to the bathroom where he lovingly set me on the side of the tub. I heard water running briefly and then he sat down next to me and gently wiped my face with a warm damp wash cloth. He whispered comforting words to me as he cleaned my face.

When he was satisfied, he scooped me up again and carried me to our bed where he tucked me. After adjusting my pillow and making sure I was comfortable, he lay down beside me and pulled me tightly into his embrace. Soon I fell asleep wrapped in the protective cocoon of my mate's strong arms.

Sometime later, Ben woke me. It was after mid-day he told me, and Mama had my lunch ready. He washed my face again, undoubtedly I'd been crying in my sleep, and then he made me change clothes before he let me leave the room. Though he hovered at my elbow, at least this time he let me walk.

In the kitchen, Mama served me lunch. I picked at the food, taking a few halfhearted bites. I wasn't really hungry, partly because of the enormous breakfast I'd had earlier, and partly because of the news I'd received. _'In a year, you'll die a mortal death.'_ My father's words echoed through my head over and over again. I felt my stomach roll in protest and I pushed my plate away, if I tried to eat more I would be sick.

Ben was trying, without success, to coax me into another bite of my sandwich when I heard footsteps entering the room. I didn't need my mental gifts or a vampire's sense of smell to know it was Papa. Each member of my family had a distinct way of walking and, at human speed, it was even more pronounced. Papa always entered a room the same way he would if he were visiting one of his patients at the hospital, with slow reverent steps.

He came up behind me and griped my shoulders, giving them a brief but gentle squeeze. "What's the matter, Kitten," he asked kindly. "You attacked your breakfast with zeal, but you've barely touched your lunch."

"I'm not hungry, Papa." I replied sadly.

"Well, after what you packed away this morning, I can't say as I'm surprised." He said as he pulled out the chair next to mine and sat down. "Still, you should try. A healthy diet is important for humans."

To make Ben and my parents happy, I choked down a few more mouthfuls of the sandwich before pushing the plate away for good. While I chewed I listened to them talk. Papa had been called away to the hospital after Ben took me to bed. Seth's sister Leah had been brought into the ER with an acute attack of appendicitis. Papa had to operate immediately, but she was recovering now.

"The poor child," Mama sounded very concerned. It was in her nature to mother just about everyone. "Shouldn't you get back to the hospital and check on her?"

Papa chuckled. "She's fine; I left her in very capable hands, young Dr. Raven is turning out to be quite an asset. Besides, if there's a problem the hospital will page me. In the mean time, I decided to pop by and check up on my very special patient."

Of course, I was the very special patient, and I couldn't help my small sad smile . . . though it lasted for only a moment.

As for Dr. Michael Raven, I'd had an opportunity to meat shortly after he arrived. He was the first Quileute to attend and graduate from medical school, at Emory no less. Dr. Raven was the pride of the tribe and when the tribal council asked Papa about letting him practice at the hospital, my father was more than pleased.

My father, being the only doctor at the small facility, needed the help. Michael was of Seth and Jacob's generation and a shape-shifter himself so he knew our secret as well as that of his Pack brothers. Of course, he was required to take a solemn oath to keep everything under wraps.

"I also need to draw some blood samples from Sarah for testing." Papa added. His words drew me back into the present and made my smile became a frown. "I know you hate needles, Kitten," he whispered gently. "But I need the samples if I'm going to solve this mystery."

I knew he was right, but I still didn't like it.

"Perhaps I'd best go for a short walk; I can make some phone calls while I'm at it." Ben excused himself. I instinctively reached for him, clutching at his arm as he stood. "There, there now, Milady," he soothed. "You know it's not a good idea for me to be around fresh blood. I'll be back before you know it." He bent and kissed the top of my head before leaving.

I hated that he had to go, but I also knew it was necessary. Ben had excellent control, but having once lived the _traditional_ life he didn't like to tempt fate. I was still listening to my husband's as he opened and closed the front door when I felt something tight around my right forearm. I nearly jumped from my chair.

"Relax, Sarah," Papa whispered as he patted my hand. "It's just the tourniquet."

Old memories flooded back to me, I was eight years old and alone in the ER at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Hospital. All around me, the noises of the hospital echoed in my ears along with the thundering of my heart. I was blind and scared, and at the mercy of a nurse named Mary Constance. The elder Franciscan nun was trying to start my IV, but she had little patience for a frightened child. She jabbed and jabbed at my arm, muttering her complaints all the while . . . and all the while it hurt more and more and my fear increased to a fevered pitch.

Suddenly I jerked my arm away from the hands that held it.

"Sarah, you must be still!" my father's voice scolded sharply.

I could count the number of times Papa had raised his voice to me like that on the fingers of one hand.

"Don't ever pull away from me like that when I'm trying to take blood from you." He continued in a scolding tone and then his voice softened and he added, "I could have really hurt you, honey, and I don't want to do that."

*****

It took some coaxing to collect the blood samples from Sarah, she hated needles. Once I calmed her down, she told me about the Franciscan nurse who had tormented her as a child. In light of her story, her fear of needles made perfect sense. I assured her that such behavior wouldn't be permitted in a hospital today. It most certainly wouldn't be permitted in any hospital that I ran. Nurse Mary Constance would be out the front door before she could say Amen.

I had to pet and sooth her, but eventually, I ended up with four large test tubes full of Sarah's crimson essence. Once I had the samples back in my lab I began the preliminary testing. I was just reading the results when I heard Edward and Bella coming in from hunting. I smiled, it was our turn now.

They would be keeping an eye on Sarah while Esme and I hunted. Benjamin had to leave on urgent business in Seattle, but would be back by late evening. I put the report on my desk and looked up in time to see Edward standing in the doorway. He looked pensive; perhaps it was the scent of human blood coming from my work. I hadn't noticed it before, but it was rather strong.

"Carlisle, there's a problem." He stated flatly.

When was there not a problem, I wondered with a sigh. "What now?"

"While we were out hunting, we came across the trail of an unknown vampire."

"Probably a nomad," I dismissed. Edward had a habit of making mountains out of mole hills. "They pass through from time to time. He'll leave soon enough."

He ignored my dismissal. "We followed his scent . . . all the way to Hope's Keep. He went inside Ben and Sarah's house, Carlisle, and it appeared that he was searching for something. He left this on their bed."

Edward extended his hand; in it was a badly worn piece of watercolor paper. As I took the paper from him I noticed a putrefied smell wafting off it, when I looked down at it, I understood why. Someone had painted a picture on the scrap, _in human blood_. I was appalled.

When my shock wore off, I examined the image. Instantly I recognized Sarah, although it was a younger version of her. I also recognized one of the two male figures in the portrait; I would never forget the face of Cane. The third figure was an enigma, though I though he bore a slight resemblance to Sarah.

"There was this too," Edward's voice pulled me from my examination. When I looked up again he was holding out an envelope.

I took it and noted it was addressed to Sarah. I removed a one page hand written letter from the envelope, obviously whoever did this didn't realize Sarah was blind.

"Did you read it?" I asked as I unfolded the letter.

"Yes, but you'd better read it for yourself, it's pretty . . . disturbing." A faint growl rang through Edward's voice as he said the word 'disturbing'.

Apprehensively, I turned my focus to the letter.

_Dearest Sister,_

_I know this letter will probably come as quite a shock to you and for that I'm truly sorry. However, if it's any consolation, I too was shocked when I found out that you were still alive. Father and I thought you were dead, had we know otherwise, we would have come for you sooner._

_It's me, Sarah, your baby brother, William. I was rescued from the carnage after the massacre of our family by Father. He raised me and he was very good to me. I can only hope against hope that you fared as well as I did, but I'm sure you didn't. It must have been awful for you, having to live day in and day out with those who murdered our family. _

_Father and I tried to rescue you several years ago, when you came home for Aunt Olivia's funeral. Our efforts were thwarted by Carlisle and the Golden-eyed Ones. Father paid for his heroic efforts with his life. But fear not Sister, I haven't given up._

_I've know of your location for some time now, but I had to wait until I was old enough for Constantine to change me. He was Father's creator; I sought him out after the Golden-eyes destroyed Father. He too was good to me, and taught me much. On my nineteenth birthday he turned me, granting me the gift of immortality._

_After my awakening, I had to wait until I was strong enough and cunning enough to challenge Carlisle and his coven. I am powerful enough now, and I will come for you. Rest assured, you will be liberated from your captors and I will exact my revenge for the murders of our family and Father on the Golden-eyed Ones._

_I send you a picture of what I hoped our family would be, at least with it you will know me when you see me and not be frightened. You have nothing to fear from me Sister, I will not hurt you. In fact, once this is over with and if you want it, I'll take you to Constantine and he can give you the dark gift. Think about it for now._

_In the mean time, know that I love you and that I count the hours until we are reunited. Take care, Sister, and do not breathe a word of this to anyone, lest our plot be ruined._

_Your loving brother,_

_William Cane_

"Dear God," I muttered as I absently I folded the letter and returned it to the envelope.

I was still trying to process what I'd just read. Not only had Sarah's brother apparently survived, he had been reared by the monster, Cane. Now he was a vampire . . . a very misinformed vampire, seeking to 'rescue' his sister and avenge himself upon us.

"What do you want done?" Edward's voice pulled me from my thoughts. When I looked up, I found Jasper and Emmett were beside him awaiting my answer.

"Not a word of this to Sarah, is that understood?" I insisted sternly. After all the shocking things she'd been forced to deal with so far, I couldn't imagine what this news would do to her. "We'll have a Family Council tonight, after she gone to bed, to discuss options. Give Jacob a call and see if he can slip away and attend. It might be good if the Pack was aware of this situation. In the meantime, Sarah is not to be left alone. At least two of us are to be with her at all times and that number doesn't include Ben."

*****

I left Sarah's room, shutting the door gently behind me. Ben was already waiting with Jacob and the rest of the family at the table. I had decided to make one last check on Sarah to make sure she was soundly sleeping. I didn't want her privy to what we were about to discuss.

I entered the silent dining room and, before I could take my seat, Benjamin was on his feet demanding answers.

"So what do you plan to do about this?" He snarled angrily. A loud growl rumbled from deep in his chest as he pitched the letter onto the table.

I glared at him sternly. While I didn't mind open debates at my council table, in fact I often encouraged them, I did take exception to the disrespectful tone in Ben's voice. My look had the desired effect and Ben quietly found his seat.

I took my place at the head of the table before answering him. "That's why we're here, to discuss options."

"But you must have some idea in mind as to how you want to deal with this threat." Jacob chimed in. "Whatever it is, you have the Pack's support. We'll be stepping up patrols around the reservation, and, if you have no objections, I'd like to station a couple of sentries close to your home until the threat is passed."

"Thank you Jacob that would be greatly appreciated." I looked Jake in the eye and acknowledged his offer of support, and then I turned my attention to the rest of the family. The macabre portrait lay untouched in the center of the table; the scent wafting off of it was distressing, even for me. "If everyone has had a chance to examine this, I think it's time to dispose of it." When no one objected, I snatched it up and tossed it into the fireplace.

"Is that really Sarah's brother?" Rose asked. I contemplated my answer as I watched the edges of the watercolor paper blacken and curl under the greedy caress of the flames.

"I did the necessary tests earlier, comparing a DNA sample from the picture to one from Sarah." I sighed before coming back to the table. "The samples match, the blood used to paint that abhorrent piece of artwork did indeed come from Sarah's biological brother. Undoubtedly, William painted it before he became one of us."

"Light of Heaven, I can't believe what I'm hearing!" Benjamin exploded. "Does it really matter whether this deranged individual is 'really' Sarah's brother? The question you should be asking is . . . what are we going to do about this threat?"

Ben was on his feet now and I watched him pace like a caged animal. Did it matter, no . . . and yes. If William was unwise enough to attack my family he would be dealt with, surly and swiftly. I had no tolerance for threat of violence against those that I loved. Still, Sarah had lost so much in the past and now her very future was uncertain, how could I justify killing her only reaming kin. I would be no better than the beastly Cane, whom I loathed even in death.

"It is my fervent hope," I began in a calm even tone, "that with effort, William can be made to see reason. He has long been deceived and . . ."

"Made to see reason!" Ben bellowed. "Have you lost your mind, Carlisle?! What sort of _reasonable_ individual, human or vampire, paints grotesques portraits in human blood?! One doesn't reason with the criminally insane, one prosecutes and incarcerates them! And in the case of our kind, one dismembers and burns them."

I was very much afraid if he didn't quiet down Ben would wake Sarah with all his shouting. Just when I thought I would have to ask my son-in-law to leave until he was calm, a gentle wave of tranquility washed through the room. I nodded my thanks to Jasper before turning back to Benjamin.

"I understand your point of view Ben and ordinarily I would agree." I sighed. "When Cane threatened us, the hunt down and destroys option was the only course I considered. This time, however, there's a lot more at stake. We're in the middle of a family crisis, Sarah needs the full focus of our attention on finding a way to undo the Water's effects and Bart's going to need our support and understanding once he learns the truth about us. We don't have time for search and destroy missions." Then I paused and added. "Besides, we're talking about Sarah's brother."

Benjamin growled loudly and I could tell he wasn't ready to back down just yet. It didn't surprise me too much; Ben had a strong alpha personality. Unlike Emmett and Jasper who had married into the family and had quickly become as much sons to me as Edward, I suspected that Benjamin and I would never enjoy that type of bond. We were still very good friends and he was my son-in-law, but he seemed to hold himself slightly outside the circle of our family. This was for one simple reason . . . I alone was the head of the Cullen family and after five hundred years of autonomy, Ben would never completely surrender to my authority. To that end, in the six years of their marriage, Ben and Sarah hadn't once lived under my roof as her sibling had . . . nor did I suspect that they ever would. Sarah would forever be a cherished part of this family, but in essence she and Ben existed as a coven of their own.

"Brother indeed," Ben muttered and then went to stand behind Edward, placing his hands lightly on the boy's shoulders. "Look! Here is Sarah's brother; his name is Edward, _not William_."

The he took the same position behind Emmett. "And here . . . here is her other brother; his name is Emmett, _not William_."

He moved to stand behind Jasper. "And here . . . here is another of Sarah's brothers; his name is Jasper, _not William_.

"As far as I'm concerned, the only family Sarah has is seated in this room and these three are her brothers. William Cane is nothing more than a hideous specter, and it would have been better for all of us if the swamp had consumed his remains twenty one years ago.

"I will say this only once: for the time being I'll go along with whatever your plan is, and for Sarah's sake I hope it works. But as God is my witness, Carlisle, if I think for one second that Sarah is in any mortal danger . . . _reason_ can go straight to hell. I'll kill him without a second thought, and the only testimony that will remain to stand witness to his pathetic existence will be a pile of silver ashes and a plum of purple smoke."

Ben's words were still echoing in my head as I watched him storm from the room heading for the front door. He was gone into the night before I could say anything. I knew he would be back of course; he just needed some air and a chance to cool down.

"Wow," Bella gasped. "And here I always though Edward was a hot head. How does Sarah stand his temper?"

"The same way Emmett can stand Rose's temper." Alice offered. "The same way you can stand Edward's moodiness. You were made for each other. Emmett is the cooling force to Rose's fire, you are the bright light that illuminates Edward's darkness, Esme is the driving force of unconditional love and reassurance to Carlisle's guilt and self-doubt, and Jasper is my protector who looks out for me because I don't always look out for myself. A yin for every yang, isn't it amazing?"

"Yes it is amazing, Alice," Esme answered lightly. "But you know; it goes both ways. Benjamin is Sarah's bold sir Lancelot, defending her against the slings and arrows of the world and making her feel safe when she ordinarily wouldn't.

"Rose gives Emmett the support and courage he needs to accept who he is and be himself . . . no matter what.

" Alice is Jasper's well of strength, her concern and encouragement are the anchors hold him fast and give him the will to _chose_ this new life each and every day and in doing so, overcome his past.

"Edward is Bella's guardian; she was always so busy being the caregiver, the parent instead of the child. She put herself last and everyone else first until she got to the point where she believed herself unworthy of the love and the caring of others. Edward reminds her that she is worthy, of everything, but especially of happiness."

The room went quiet until Bella spoke. "And what about Carlisle?" she asked shyly. "If you are the antidote to his guilt and self-doubt, what is he to you?"

Esme looked at me but didn't answer, instead I watched her turn her gaze uncomfortably to her lap. Even after all these years she still found discussing our relationship difficult. Bella deserved an answer, so I decided to help my beautiful mate out of her predicament. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say anything, the whisper soft voice of my mate cut me off.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preservers. Love never fails. 1 Corinthians, chapter 13 verses 4 thru 8."

When she finished the quote, she paused and looked up at me, fixing me with her radiant honey gold eyes. In that moment, I could have melted into a pool of liquid bliss and contentedly stayed that way for all eternity. To my delight the beautiful creature next to me decided to continue her exposition.

"That's what Carlisle is to me, the embodiment of true and unyielding love. It was something I never received as a child in my parents' home, something I was denied in my first marriage by my mortal husband, and it is something that I would have cheated myself out of if I had succeeded in my efforts that night at the cliff. But to my continuing astonishment, it is something I have found in overflowing abundance in this life . . . at this man's side. I am truly a blessed woman indeed."


	6. Chapter 6

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!!

Chapter 6

**Between a Rock and a Hard Place**

**________________________________________________________________**

_For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh._

_Ephesians 5:31 (NIV)_

_*****_

_Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you._

_Exodus 20:12 (NIV)_

___________________________________________________________________________

I woke up to the sound of birds singing outside my window. When I rolled onto my back, my arm flopped onto Ben's side of the bed. The space was empty and the covers were completely undisturbed, I was alone and I likely had been all night. This was the first morning since becoming human again that I'd awakened and not found my husband beside me. I missed his softly whispered words, _'Good_ _morning, Milady, did you sleep well?'_ I found his absence very unsettling, and my stomach tightened.

After a long lazy stretch I got up and felt my way to the bathroom. As I showered the tight uneasy feeling in my stomach worsened. I tried to convince myself that Ben had either gone for an early morning hunt or he was in the makeshift home office Mama had set up for him in the Great Room making phone calls. Unfortunately, try as I might, I couldn't make myself believe my own cheerful logic. Somehow I knew Ben wasn't in the house and I had a sinking suspicion it was a bad thing.

Once I was bathed and dressed, I made my way up the short hall towards the kitchen. Even without vampire hearing and my mental gifts, nineteen years of blindness had sharpened my hearing well beyond the limits of most humans. I could clearly make out the sound of my father in the kitchen with my mother. The pages of Papa's news paper rustled as he turned them and Mama was softly singing as she fixed my breakfast.

I paused half way up the hall and focused, straining the limits of my human ears. I listened for the sound of Ben's voice on the phone talking business with his law office in Seattle. I listened for the rapid-fire pitter patter of him typing on his laptop. I listened for the nervous drumming of his fingers on his small desk as he read over one of the legal briefs prepared for him by his secretary. I heard none of these things and my stomach became a sick knot of dread.

"Kitten," my father's gentle voice filled my ears. I had been so focused that I hadn't heard him leave the kitchen. "Why are you lurking in the hallway, your mother is ready to serve your breakfast."

He took me by the elbow and led me into the kitchen. As he seated me at the table, he and Mama exchanged conversation at vampire speed. It was ridicules to listen to, sounding like a tape recording being played on fast forward. I couldn't decide whether it was done on perpous to keep their conversation private, of if it was just an oversight.

"Here you are," my mother cooed as she set the plate before me. "French toast and sausage, and I'll bring you the sliced strawberries and melon cubes and your tea in a second."

I listened briefly as she flittered back towards the counter by the sink, then I turned my attention to Papa who was once again enjoying his paper. "Papa, where's Ben?" I asked innocently.

"Um, well you see, Kitten, he . . . um . . . well that is, he . . . um," I wasn't used to hearing my father stammer and it made me even more apprehensive.

"He had to step out." Mama came to his rescue as she set the bowl of cut fruit and steaming mug of tea on the table for me. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"He went hunting?" Ben usually hunted at night while I slept, and was home well before dawn. He told me this so that if I ever woke in the night to find him missing, I wouldn't worry.

"No," Papa answered. "He needed some air, so he went out."

While my father's tone was kind and gentle, like always, I could tell it was a dismissal. I wasn't ready to be dismissed just yet, there was something going on and I wanted to know what it was.

"Why would he need air," I began as I cut into the French toast with the side of my fork, "Technically, he doesn't even need to breath."

I thought I heard my mother giggle, but I managed to keep a straight face. I put a fork full of Mama's divine gastronomical creation in my mouth and waited for Papa to answer me. I heard him sigh, fidget with his paper and then clear his throat . . . all were attempts to stall. Now I was really worried because Papa clearly didn't want to talk about this. That could only signal one thing and that made me frown. I put down my fork, suddenly I wasn't hungry any more.

"Sarah, please eat your breakfast." Papa insisted. I had inadvertently given him a means to change the subject.

I ignored his request. "Why did Ben step out, where did he go?" I asked again.

"I don't know where he went." Papa sounded slightly annoyed. "Believe me, if I knew, I'd tell you." Then he added, "Esme went to a lot of trouble to cook for you, now please eat."

I didn't budge towards picking up my fork; instead I put on my best angry scowl and crossed my arms. If he could be obstinate so could I.

The faintest of growls resonated from deep within Papa's chest, but it didn't scare me. While he might get angry with me from time to time, my father loved me dearly and would never hurt me.

"Very well," His voice was tight as he answered. "Ben and I had an argument last night and he left to calm down. He hasn't returned yet."

'_Exactly!'_ my mind screamed. Though Papa and Ben were old friends, they sometimes argued and when they did, it all most always concerned me. I could never understand this, Papa never argued with my siblings concerning their mates. In fact, his relationship with Ben was completely different from his relationships with any of the rest of us. This left me feeling sad and ill at easy, but more than anything it left me feeling torn. Loyalty to my father meant betraying my husband and loyalty to my husband meant breaking my father's heart.

Suddenly my human emotions got the better of me and I started to sob.

"Now look what you've done." Mama chided as she came to stand behind me and rub my shoulders.

"What I've done," Papa sounded hurt. "I can't seem to win for loosing today. Perhaps I'd best be off to the hospital . . . before I get into any more trouble."

I heard him fold his paper and get up, but I didn't want him to leave. The thought of him going made me hurt inside.

"Wait please," I squeaked, my voice sounded pathetic. No one moved. "I'm sorry; it's just that I don't understand. I know that you love me, Papa, and you only want what's best for me, and so does Ben. So why do you have to fight? It makes me feel awful when the two most important men in my life don't get along. I get stuck in the middle, and it hurts. I sometimes whish you liked each other more. I wish that you got on with Ben the way you get along with the rest of the boys . . . I wish Ben was more like a son to you too, then you wouldn't fight."

Silence filled the room and then I heard my father take his seat again. Moments later his cold stony hand was holding mine.

"I'm sorry, honey," He began softly. "Your right, Ben and I only want the best for you. Unfortunately, we don't always agree on what 'the best' is and that often causes conflict between us. But that doesn't mean that we dislike each other, in fact quite the opposite is true." He sighed. "It is also unfortunate that Ben will likely never be a son to me, but not because I don't want him to be. Benjamin is a natural leader and he's called his own shots for over five hundred years, it simply isn't in him to submit to the authority of another. I understand and accept this," Papa's other hand cupped the side of my face and his thumb stroked my cheek. "There's no reason for you to feel badly about your mate's personality. I'm sorry you feel like you're trapped between a rock and a hard place sometimes, I'll try to make that better for you if I can. I never intended for things to be that way, I love both of you very much and I wouldn't want either of you to be any different."

"And incidentally," Papa added with a grin in his voice, "If you think fathers and sons don't argue . . . ask Edward about some of the rounds he and I had when he was younger. They make the tiffs between Ben and I look tame."

*****

I left the hospital at just past noon and made my way to _Arnold's Pie Heaven_ to pick up a large 'sweep the kitchen' pizza. Because of the looming menace of William, the meeting that Ben, Jacob, and I had originally planned to have with my grandson at Hope's Keep had been moved to Jake's house. So far, William hadn't dared to cross the boundary onto Quileute land. I fervently hope this remained so.

Edward called me while I was placing the order for the pizza to tell me that he and his brothers were on their way over. As I drove towards Jake's house, I wondered if Ben would show up. He needed to; this wasn't something Bart should have to endure alone. He needed his dad to be there for emotional support. Not only would he be learning the truth about dragons today, but he would also learn of his mother's condition.

The image of Sarah's sad face flashed through my mind and I sighed. Her confession earlier this morning, that she felt torn when Ben and I disagreed, still haunted me. I held no animosity toward my son-in-law and I did in fact love him, but we often disagreed, especially lately with Sarah being 'sick'. Keeping in mind that that she is _his_ mate, I tried to respect his wishes, but I had to admit that because she was also _my_ daughter, it was hard at times. It hurt me to know that my daughter felt so guilty and unsettled, I would have to do something about that.

As I drove, I called Esme to see how things were going at the house. The Cullen women were on guard duty. I had no fear; four fully mature female vampires would be more than a match for a lone male. For the sake of overkill, Jake had sent along a couple of Pack members over to lurk in the woods near the house. All the gold in Fort Knox wasn't as well protected as Sarah was right now in my house.

"Hello love," my wife's voice purred over the phone.

"Hello yourself," the sound of her voice made me smile. "What are you ladies up to?"

"We're playing Monopoly," she answered cheerfully.

"Alice is cheating . . . again." Rose complained in the background. I couldn't help but laugh.

"How's Sarah?" I asked.

"Better," Esme sighed. "She's our banker for the afternoon."

I was glad to hear that the girls had Sarah involved in a game; perhaps it would improve her mood. "I'm on my way to Jacob's; I'll let you know how things go."

"Carlisle, try to be gentle," she insisted.

I assured her that I would and I told her that I loved her before snapping my phone shut. Not more than three minutes after I ended the call with Esme, my phone began to vibrate. I glance at the caller ID and was shocked. I flipped open the phone and answered.

"Hello, Zafrina, how nice to hear from you." I was both delighted and surprised by her call.

"Carlisle, do you no longer live in the same house?" She asked, sounding genuinely confused. "I thought you told me you were still in Washington."

Now I was really shocked. "Are you here in the States?"

"We're on your front porch," She informed me. "Or what used to be your front porch. Where do you live now?"

"With the Quileute," I told her as I turned my car around. The Amazonian coven would need an escort onto the reservation, especially with the Pack on high alert. "Stay where you are, I'm coming to pick you up."

"By the way," Her voice sounded dangerous now. "If you still own this place, you should invest in a home security system. You have a squatter, an unknown male, and it looks like he's been here a while. He ran away when we showed up. Do you want us to track him?"

"Not at the moment." I knew it must be William, but I didn't have time for him now. I had more pressing matters to attend to "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

* * *

**AN:** Yes, I'm sorry, its a shot chapter, but it sets thing up for things to come.


	7. Chapter 7

**NOTE:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or it's characters!!!

AN: Because the last one was so short . . . well you know what they say; Take two, they're small!

Chapter 7

**No Such Thing as Dragons**

* * *

_A dragon lives forever but not so little boys  
Painted wings and giant strings make way for other toys.  
One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more  
And Puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar__._

_**Puff the Magic Dragon**_

_Peter, Paul, and Mary_

* * *

"Oooh," Alice purred, "you landed on Community Chest. What does your card say Esme."

"Like you don't already know," Rose sneered.

I couldn't help giggling; Rose wasn't a very gracious looser. Alice owned most of the strategic properties and she had hotels on all but two of those. Bella held all four railroads and Mama owned the utilities. Poor Rose had her meager holdings heavily mortgaged and had been to jail more times that I cared to count.

"Congratulations, you've won a local beauty contest, collect $100." Mama read the card aloud with a smile in her voice.

"Why does Esme always win contest and collect money and I always end up paying taxes and fixing pot holes?" Rose grumped.

As I continued to smile my hand ghosted over the box in my lap. The Monopoly money was arranged in stacks from left to right, smallest denomination to largest. The second stack from the right was hundred dollar bills; I picked up one and handed it to Mama.

"Thank you dear." Mama was always the picture of civility, even if she might be losing. Rose could learn a thing or two from her. "I believe it's your turn now Bella."

I listened as Bella jiggled the dice in her hand before lightly tossing them onto the game board. "Seven." She announced and then she moved her game piece.

The house rules that Mama established when playing with me were, move at human speed and make sure you tap the board for every space you moved. This was so that I could keep up.

"Ah ha," Bella sounded triumphant. "I passed go, two hundred dollars please."

"Not so fast little sister," A wicked grin tinted Rose's voice. "You also landed on Baltic Avenue, with three houses on it. That belong to me and you owe me rent . . . pay up!"

I reached for the stack of hundreds and pulled two bills to give to Bella. She took her salary and then there was the sound of shuffling paper as Bella counted out the amount she owed Rose.

"That's more like it," Rose commented smugly. "It's about time I got paid."

"I believe it's your turn now Rose." Mama prodded gently. "Do try to stay out of jail dear, it would be nice if you could make it the whole way around the board this time."

'_Oh no she didn't'_ I thought to myself. I couldn't believe my ears; my sweet saintly mother had just deliberately teased my sister. I was barely able to stifle the laugh that threatened to force its way out of my mouth.

Rose ignored her and rolled the dice. "Ten." She announced proudly, but then everything went strangely silent. I felt an odd prickle of power in the air and I knew without being told that Alice was having a vision.

"Alice," my mother whispered after several seconds, "What did you see?"

"Wil . . . I mean, an intruder, has been staying at our old house and is on his way here." Alice's voice still sounded distant. "He'll arrive soon, fifteen minutes tops."

"What about the Quileute patrols?" Bella asked.

"He'll get past them, and then make a bee line for us." Alice answered.

I was panicked by the level of concern in the house. Obviously an unknown vampire had slipped past the Quileute board guards and was on his way here. While it was impossible to know the individuals intentions, my mother and siblings were erring on the side of caution by assuming that he meant harm.

"Bella, get Sarah out of here," My mother ordered. I'd never heard her take charge like this before and it was a little startling. "Take her to Jacob's, Edward, Carlisle and the others are over there. Tell them what's happening. We'll hold William off as long as we can."

"Who's William?" I asked as Bella lead me towards the kitchen door.

"The delusional vamp that's on his way to pay us a call," My sister growled. "Now come on, we don't have much time." Without another word Bella slung me onto her back and launched herself off the back porch.

*****

When I pulled into the yard in front of Jake's house, I was relieved to see not only Edward's Volvo but also Ben's Jaguar. I smiled as I cut the engine and opened the door. Zafrina and her sisters pilled out of the back seat and followed me into the house. Their presence took everyone by surprise; Jake cut me an evil glare. I would have to apologize later.

"Who wants pizza?" I asked in an effort to cut the tension.

"Cool, Grandpa brought food, I'm starved." Bart sounded delighted as he took the box from me. "Awesome, a sweep the kitchen from Arnold's . . . my favorite."

I could only smile as I watched Bart dig into to his favorite fair. At seventeen he was physically much bigger that his year mates and he could easily pass for twenty five. I knew of course, that his accelerated maturation was due to the introduction of venom into his system when Sarah bit him seven years ago. Through an odd quirk in my daughter's genetics, she was able to save her then ten year old son from certain death by biting him, but the boy didn't undergo the transformation process. I later discovered Sarah's venom was 'sterile' as it lacked what I had termed 'the potency factor'.

"I see you brought gusts." Jacob observed lightly.

"Yes, you remember Zafrina and her sisters don't you?" I replied, hoping he wouldn't press the matter. I was relieved when he didn't.

We settled down in Jacob's living room and I watched in awe as Bart practically inhaled half of the large pizza. When things were calm I cleared my throat to signal to Jacob and the others that I was ready to start.

"Uhm, Bart," I began. "The reason we're here is because there's something your father and I need to tell you. I'm afraid it isn't going to be easy for you to hear, but it's necessary."

"Sure thing Grandpa," the boy shrugged after wiping his mouth on a napkin. "What's up?"

I glanced briefly at Ben, making sure he still wanted me to take the lead on this. We had discussed it during the layover in Atlanta and he felt, when it came to giving people hard news, I had more tack than he did. I wanted to make sure he still felt this way given the argument we'd had last evening. He gave me an almost imperceptible nod and I sighed with relief. In spite of our disagreement, my son-in-law still trusted me.

With that settled I turned my attention back to my grandson, took a deep breath, and began."Before I get to the difficult part, Bart, I want to impress upon you the fact that your mother and father, your Grandmother and I, and all your aunts and uncles love you very much and nothing that I say to you today will ever change how we feel about you. Do you understand?"

Bart nodded and so I continued.

"Six and a half years ago, your mother took a very great risk and saved your life. In doing so, however, she also perpetrated a lie. That lie has continued to this day. It wasn't told in malice, but rather it was meant to protect you . . . until such time as you were old enough to know the truth."

"What truth Grandpa?" Bart looked thoroughly confused.

"Patients my boy, I'm getting there." I soothed. I was grateful when Jake placed a reassuring hand on Bart's shoulder. I smiled and nodded my approval. "The night she rescued you from Alberto and his gang, in order to explain the extraordinary thing you witnessed, she told you that she was . . . a dragon. That we, her family, were in fact a colony of transfigured dragons. In order to keep you safe, we've all gone along with this ruse over the years, but now it is time for you to know the truth of our nature, and in turn, the truth of your own uniqueness."

I watched Bart's expression twist in confusion. "I kind of figured you weren't really dragons. I didn't say anything, but I stopped believing that when I was about thirteen. Will Mom be mad, 'cause I really like her dragon stories? She should write or something."

"No," I answered with a smile, I too liked Sarah's imaginative stories. "Your mother won't be mad, in fact Alice told me as much. You are right of course, we are not dragons . . . but we aren't human either, and you may find what we truly_ are_, rather disturbing."

"What are you," He asked with an innocent chuckle, "Aliens from outer space?"

I smiled as my mind instantly recalled Sarah's theory on the origins of our species, vampire aliens from outer space. Like mother like son I sighed to myself. It didn't help matters any that that the two of them shared a similar taste in books and movies.

"No we're not extraterrestrials." I looked once more at Ben. He along with my sons seemed to be enjoying watching me squirm in my current predicament. "We're . . . vampires."

At first Bart only stared blankly at me, but then after several minuets he burst into rancorous laughter. I was at a loss, I didn't know if he was in shock or if he simply thought this was yet another lie.

"Ok Grandpa," he finally managed when his laughter simmered down to intermittent chuckles. "I get it that you and the rest of the family aren't human, I mean come on you guys have some pretty weird habits, and you're obviously not dragons, in spite of Mom's super cool stories. But, vampires . . . come on Gramps; you're not exactly the epitome of the fiend from Bram Stoker's novel. In fact none of you are, my Mom and Grandma Esme . . . they wouldn't hurt a fly let alone suck someone's blood."

He wasn't afraid at least, but he didn't believe me either. This was going to be harder than I thought. "While your right about your mother and grandmother's disposition, I assure you this is the absolute truth. We are, in fact, vampires . . . Jacob, tell him about . . ."

Before I could finish my sentence, the front door of Jacob's house exploded into a rain of splinters as Bella burst through it. Her face was a mask of horror and she had a very frightened Sarah slung like an oversized backpack on her back.

"William's at the house, Esme and the girls are holding him off, you've got to hurry."

Jacob's house cleared of occupants faster than a building on fire. I instructed Ben and Bart to stay put with Sarah and Edward insisted that Bella remain as well. Jacob phased as he leapt off the front porch and by the sound of the howls echoing through the trees I could only guess the Pack had been alerted. Zafrina and her sisters as well as my sons and I raced through the forest toward home, hoping beyond hope that we would arrive before anything unfortunate happened.

******

Seven vampires including myself and at least a dozen wolves formed an ever tightening ring around my home. From inside I could hear the voice of my mate trying to talk reason with the intruder. In response an angry male voice exploded in ugly hurtful words. Edward had assured me, when we were within range for him to hear his mother and sister's thoughts that they were all in good health.

"What have you done with Sarah?!" the voice of William demanded. "I'm losing patients with you, woman . . . answer me!"

"I've already told you, she's not here." Esme answered calmly. "Now please leave."

I felt Edward tense beside be and when I glanced over at him I could see the muscles in his jaw clinching. He loved his mother dearly and I could tell he was ready to rip into William for speaking to her in such a disrespectful manor. I too was having a hard time controlling my urge to rush in and attack.

"You'd better leave while you still can." Alice insisted. "If our mates don't rip you to bits for invading our home . . . the Pack is sure to turn you into dog food for being on their land."

"The Pack eh," William sneered. "So that what I've smelled for the past twenty miles? The Cullen coven has its own private guard . . . just like the filthy Volturi. My Father and Constantine were right about you, I'll be doing our world a favor by eliminating you."

"You won't endear yourself to Sarah by killing her family." Esme told him flatly. "She loves us very much and if you hurt us, she'll only hate you for it."

"She'll understand, once I tell her the truth about you and your relationship with those two pathetic murders, Vincent and Aloysius, who killed our family." William growled. "You're real monsters, you know that . . . marring her off to Vincent the way you did. If she knew what he did to Mom and Dad, she'd puke every time he touched her,"

That was the last straw; I couldn't listen to any more of William's poison. I turned to Edward and whispered, "Signal the others to stay alert and ready. I'm going in."

"Alone," my son hissed. "Are you out of your mind, Carlisle?!"

"You sound more and more like _me_ with each passing decade." I patted his back lightly before standing to my full height. "I have to at least try to talk reason with William. That's not going to come off very well with an army snarling in his face."

I took a breath a started towards the front of the house. The door was standing wide open and I could clearly see William's back. I could tell he was a very young vampire, not only from what I'd gleaned from his letter to Sarah, but also from his behavior. An older more experienced individual wouldn't have chosen to attack such a large well established coven all alone nor would they have put themselves in such an exposed position. He was distracted, still arguing with Esme and the girls and, if I had been of a mind to, I could have easily taken him right then and there. He wouldn't have known from whence his destruction had come.

I ghosted up the front steps on silent feet, still watching William's back. My eyes locked briefly with Esme's but she made no outward sign that would give my presence away. In the time it took me to cross the yard I had decided what line of argument I would use to persuade William that we were not his enemies . . . unfortunately I didn't get to utter a single word of it. As I stepped towards the doorway, chaos ensued.

"You've had your chance!" William roared before leaping into the mist of Alice, Rose, and Esme. It was my unfortunate wife upon whom he landed, as she sought to put herself between the intruder and her daughters.

An angry growl tore from my throat as I burst through the open door. Suddenly the house was filled with the sound breaking windows and shattering glass as the rest of my waiting family, wolves and vampires alike, rushed in to aid in the fight. Above it all, however, one heart wrenching sound echoed with chilling clarity in my ears . . . the sound of Esme screaming in agony.

As I rushed forward into the fray, I saw Emmett grab William by the back of the shirt and toss him across the room. Zafrina and her sisters instantly engaged him. Bright crimson fogged my vision as the blood lust raged within me, I wanted to go after him myself, how dare he lay his hands in violence upon my mate. The sound of Esme's pain filled whimpers called me from my vengeful thoughts.

I left the others to tend to the intruder and turned my attention to finding and helping my wife. It didn't take long; she was sprawled on the hardwood floor right where William had landed on her. To my horror, her right arm had been ripped from her delicate shoulder and her left leg was wrenched off just above the knee. Venom oozed from her wounds, slowly spreading to form a pool on the floor around her.

I resisted the urge to crumple into a heap beside her. The sight of my gentle sweet wife mutilated and _'bleeding'_ in the middle of our living room left me feeling hollow and devastated, I pushed those feelings aside and pulled _doctor mode_ to the forefront of my mind. I turned to find Edward beside me; he had an apologetic look on his face. Instantly I knew why and a growl rumbled deep within me.

"Please don't tell me he escaped." I demanded as I pinched the bridge of my nose in an effort to calm myself.

For several seconds my son said nothing. "What can I do to help?" he finally asked in a low whisper.

I already knew the truth, but Edward was doing exactly as I had requested . . . he didn't tell me William had escaped.

"Find her limbs." I instructed as I scooped my mate into my arms. "Then meet me in the lab."


	8. Chapter 8

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!!

_Sorry for the delay I had to rework part of the chapter from Carlisle's POV becouse it wasn't working the way I wanted it too._

_My first day of class is Jan 11, I'm taking 9 hrs . . . Trig and American History. Wish me luck, the old dog is going to need it if she's going to learn some new tricks_.

* * *

Chapter 8

**Healing Arts**

* * *

_I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug._

_**From:**__ the modern version of the Hippocratic Oath __written in 1964 by Dr. Louis Lasagna, Academic Dean of the School of Medicine at Tufts University._

* * *

Like a small child, I was laying on my bed in my parents' house, curled in a ball with my head resting in Benjamin's lap. My husband's hand lovingly stroked my soft brown hair as he whispered quietly to me. I had been crying again and with good reason, upstairs in my parent's room my mother was recovering from the injuries she'd suffered during the attack. Papa assured everyone that she would be fine, but that did nothing to ease the hurt I felt inside.

It was my fault after all.

In a gentle yet candid confession, Ben told me everything. He told me about the letter, the picture painted in blood, the fact that my own brother, William, was stalking my family with the intention of destroying them all. For reasons I couldn't fathom, my brother wanted me and he was bent on avenging his, _'Father,'_ Cane's death on the people I loved the most.

A wave of nausea struck me as I thought about Cane; the hideous monster that was responsible for so much grief in my life. The sound of his voice, the feel of his filthy touch, his demented laughed and the way he said my name all flashed to the forefront of my mind. As one morbid memory after another danced through my head, the scare on my neck began to ache for no apparent reason. My poor baby brother had grown up under that monster's care. I could only imagine the lies he must have been told. If he only knew the truth I mused, then he wouldn't want to kill my family.

'_Stop it!'_ I scolded myself, _'William just tried to kill your mother, and you're entertaining tender feelings for him. Have you no loyalty? _

'_This is all __**your**__ fault anyway, you've done nothing but bring grief to this family since the day Emmett carried you through the front door. It would have been better if you had died of blood lose and exposure in the woods!'_

The soft sound of my mother's voice as she hummed one of her many unnamed melodies filled my imagination. To hurt someone as sweet, kind, and gentle as Esme Cullen was an inexcusable crime . . . like torturing puppies or drowning kittens in a sack. I stuffed my fist in my mouth to stifle the noise as I started sobbing again. Her suffering was my fault and she likely would never want to see me again, and I couldn't blame her.

There was a light knock at the bedroom door and then it opened slowly. Instantly I recognized my father's footsteps as he entered the room. I found myself crying even harder because I knew it was coming, the moment when Papa's solemn proclamation would excommunicate me from all that I'd come to love.

Briefly Ben and my father talked at vampire speed, the tone of their voices hushed. In both of them concern resonated in every syllable of every word. Then I heard Papa come closer to the bed, until he was standing next to it. The bed creaked as he leaned over and took my arm gently in his strong sure hand.

"Come, Kitten." He whispered in his smooth feathery voice. It wasn't what I expected and the tone he used made me want to follow him into oblivion if he asked it of me. Papa's voice had never made me feel that way before.

He helped me off the bed and ushered me from the room. Up the short hall he led me, and across the expansive space of the Great Room. I felt like a toddler taking my first tentative steps in an unknown world, my hand firmly and confidently joined with that of my father. He whispered softly to me as he helped me up the stairs and then down the hall. Suddenly I knew where we were going and I trembled with fear.

We stopped outside Mama and Papa's bedroom door. I'd been in here on other, happier occasions. Those happy memories danced through my mind, but try as they might, they couldn't suppress the foreboding I felt now.

"No. Please, no," I pleaded as I heard him turn the knob and pushed the door open slightly. Surly Mama wouldn't want to ever lay eyes on me again, I was the reason she was injured.

"Trust me Kitten, the best way to deal with fear is to face it" He whispered in response before opening the door completely and leading me inside. He let go of my hand then, and I was going to turn and flee, but I wasn't fast enough and I found my shoulders encircled by one of Papa's arms.

"None of that now," If he'd said it in a harsher tone it would have been a reprimand, but in the light way he said it, it was almost a reassurance.

He walked me across the room until we stood by his and Mama's bed.

"Kitten," my mother cooed in her usual bright voice. It was more that I could take and I turned my face into Papa's chest and started crying again.

"What's wrong with her, Carlisle?" the concern in her voice only made my sobbing worse. Mama was recovering from having her limbs ripped off, but she was worrying about me.

"She blames herself for your injuries." Papa answered, his hand stroked my back lightly as he spoke. "According to Edward she quite sure we're going to hate her for time and memorial because William is her brother . . . and because he hurt you in order to get to her."

"How silly," Mama purred. "Didn't you tell her how absolutely absurd that is?"

"I did, my love, and so did her mate, but she refuse to believe us."

There was a brief pause before Mama spoke again. "Bring her here," she insisted, "Put her right here next to me."

Papa scooped me into his arms and deposited me on the bed next to Mama. Like an infant I found myself nestled into her side, hugged in close as Mama soothed and comforted me. I felt my father come to rest on the bed behind me and together they shushed me quiet and told me how ridicules it was for me to think this sad affair was in any way my fault.

"Have I not always perched to you and your siblings that life was a series of important choices," Papa soothed in his gentle teaching voice as he stroked my hair, "Have I not told you that the only person who stands accountable for the choices you make in this life, is yourself. Now I will tell you another truth; no man, mortal or immortal, can _put_ _himself_ as a proxy in the judgment place of another. There was only _one_, in all of history, who did this and His effort was sufficient for all time.

"Just as you are solely responsible for your own actions, Sarah, so William is solely responsible for his."

I lost track of time as I laid there between my parents. Though I knew I was exhausted, I didn't remember drifting off to sleep. I slumbered fitfully, sliding form one dreamscape to another. In some of them I happily enjoyed the company of my beloved family, in others I was trapped in Cane's clutches.

Sometime later I floated back into wakefulness. I was resting on my left side and I wanted to stretch, but I didn't dare stir. Instead I lay quietly with my eyes closed. In front of me, I felt my mother's rhythmic movements and heard the sound of a needle and thread passing through fabric . . . Mama was working on her embroidery. Behind me, I could feel Papa's presence, the small of my back rested against his thigh and I listened as he turned the page of the book he was reading.

In that moment I was contented, safe and sound in the warm loving presence of my parents. I took a deep breath, relaxed, and slipped back under the tide of sleep.

*****

As I turned the page of the book I was reading, I cast a sideways glance at Esme. She was contentedly stitching away on a needle work project. She held the embroidery hoop in her left hand and worked the needle with her right. To anyone else things would appear fine, but my experienced eye detected the weakness in her trembling right hand.

The haunting images from earlier in the day replayed with awful clarity in the theater of my mind. Suddenly I found myself plunged once more into those hideous moments when my beloved suffered before my very eyes. It was the curse of our kind that we could never forget things, not even when we wanted too . . . and I would recall these events in all their sad detail for the rest of my existence.

_I carried Esme down the stairs and along the short hallway that led to by basement lab. She was feather light in my arms and I would have willingly carried her to the very ends of the earth to make her whole again. The sight of her mangled form sprawled on the living room floor still haunted my imagination and, try as I might, I couldn't shake it from my consciousness for more than a few brief minuets at a time._

_I allowed myself to glance down into her beautiful heart shaped face for a moment and I found that her eyes were shut against the pain and her normally effervescent smile was replaced with a grimace. I felt my throat grow tight with grief; the husband in me wanted nothing better that to break down into piteous sobs._

"_Is Sarah safe?" she asked quietly without opening her eyes. Her voice was tight but steady._

"_Yes," I answered as I shouldered the lab door open. "She's at Billy's with Benjamin and Bart." How like my beloved Esme to think first of her children in spite of her own serious injuries? My heart swelled with pride and I smiled at her warmly, even though she couldn't see me with her eyes closed._

_In the lab, I lowered her gently onto the exam table, an act that caused her to moan; I winced at the thought of having caused my beloved pain. I whispered my apologies as I tried to make her comfortable._

"_I found them," Edward announced as he entered the lab behind me. I turned and was greeted by a surreal sight, my son holding the severed limbs of his mother in his hands. I took the writhing limbs from him and set about my work. _

_With efficiency born of decades in the field of emergency medicine, I examined Esme's injuries. The breaks were clean and there appeared to be no missing fragments. Satisfied with the condition of both the limbs and the stumps I set myself about the task of reattaching them to my wife's lovely frame._

"_Does it hurt?" I heard her ask in a trembling voice. When I looked in her direction I found her honey gold eyes fixed on me. While the fear of future pain clouded her features, nothing but absolute trust and confidence in me danced behind her golden irises. I was suddenly humbled, both as a husband and a physician. _

"_It stings a little." I answered honestly even as I tried to sound positive and reassuring. It occurred to me then that Esme had never suffered such injuries before. "Relax Esme, my love; everything is going to be just fine. Believe me darling; you've already endured the worst of it." I allowed my voice to drip with unabashed affection._

_Reattaching severed vampire limbs was a rather straight forward procedure. Our body parts, when detached, automatically sought to reconnect with the body. Even now, my wife's arm and leg writhed and wiggled where they lay on my instrument table in an attempt to find there host and reconnect._

_With a sigh I went to the storage cabinet and retrieved a glass jar with Esme's name on the label. It contained a pungent amber colored liquid. I set the jar down and began the process of applying the molasses thick substance to the stump of beloved's arm._

"_What's that . . . goo, Carlisle?" She asked her fear and pain eclipsed by her curiosity. _

The vision faded from me then as the vastness of my mind locked on Esme's innocent inquiry .I smiled triumphantly at the thought of her question; the amber colored liquid was one of my most closely guarded scientific discoveries. Detached vampire body parts naturally sought to reattach themselves; they are drawn to do this as if pulled by some magnetic force. But the natural process is slow and leaves the recovering individual weak and vulnerable to further attack. I had devised a better way . . . an accelerated way.

It was quite by accident one day that I had wrenched the thumb of my left hand from my body. For reasons that, to this day, I can't explain I stuck the stump in my mouth while I searched for the thumb. By the time I found my lost digit, the side of my hand was awash with venom from where I had it in my mouth. When I set the thumb back in place it grafted almost immediately. I was both surprised and intrigued.

That was the beginning of one of my greatest discoveries . . . _serum_. Made from a vampire's own venom, serum is highly concentrated and speeds the reattachment of severed body parts. With over half the liquid volume remover, it has the consistency of honey and therefore has to be painted on the stump with a glass spatula. Each member of my family had his or her very own vile of serum down in the lab . . . just in case. I even carried a supply of it with me whenever we found it necessary to travel.

With my treatment, Esme's wounds would heal in half the time. Instead of taking a week for her arm and leg to be back to full strength again, it would take only three or four days. Already she could use her right hand. By morning, she would be able to support her weight on her leg. She wouldn't be able to run for at least another day however . . . two days before she could run at full speed. Though she hated to have someone else hunt for her, sometime tomorrow I would have to bring her a deer.

Sarah moaned in her sleep. I shushed her and reached to pat her head, enjoying the soft silky texture of my daughter's hair under my hand.

"Is she awake?" Esme whispered, as she looked up from her stitching.

I shook my head. "She woke briefly about an hour and a half ago, but she quickly went back to sleep." I remembered hearing the sudden quickening of her heartbeat and respiration as she drifted into wakefulness. I chose to pretend not to, hoping she would go back to sleep, I was elated when she did.

"Do you think our little intervention worked?"

"That's hard to say, Esme, we'll just have to wait and see." Out of all the complex systems in the human body, afflictions of the mind were hardest of all for a physician to treat. The mind was multi-layered and it was tied to abstract things like emotion and feelings. It was a place where the concrete realm of reality and the ephemeral world of dreams, thought, and emotion merged into a hazy sea that few, if any, in the disciplined art of Medicine actually understood. Even to me, after well over three centuries of study, the mind was a subject still shrouded in mystery.

We settled back into our comfortable silence, her to her stitching and me to my book. At around six in the morning I gently lifted Sarah and carried her from our room. When I reached the bottom of the stairs I was joined by Benjamin who had been working at his desk in the living room. He followed me quietly to his and Sarah's room where I left them after tucking my daughter in. Satisfied that Sarah would sleep soundly for at least another hour or two,I joined Esme in the kitchen to help her make breakfast for Sarah and Bart. While my beloved was ambulatory, I didn't want her putting too much stress on her leg just , I enjoyed any and every excuse to spend with the joy of my existance . . . and after the events of the previous day it was now abundantly clear to me, one can never predict when circumstances might wrench those most important to use away from our feeble grasp. This morbid universality was true even for vampires.


	9. Chapter 9

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!!

Chapter 9

**Thorns and Roses**

* * *

_Every rose has its thorns_

_Just like every night has its dawn_

_Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song_

_Every rose has its thorns_

_Every Rose Has its Thorns_

_Poison_

* * *

When Ben woke me, I was surprised to find myself in my own bed. The memories of the emotion filled previous night filled my mind. I remembered falling asleep nestled between my parents on their huge king sized bed. Papa must have brought me back down here sometime in the night. I'd never felt more wholly loved by my parents, my natural ones or my adoptive ones, than I had resting securely between Mama and Papa.

With those warm fuzzy thoughts still playing through my head, I rolled over and snuggled in as close to Benjamin as the blanket separating us would allow. I nuzzled his chest affectionately, enjoying the strong reassuring presence of him holding me close. I heard my mate laugh softly before he kissed my forehead.

"You know the rules, Milady," he rebuked me gently, but he continued to hold me.

"Rules, rules, rules . . . I remember the way you used to greet me in the early morning," I said as I took a languid stretch and then cuddled back into him. "Why can't you greet your mate like that anymore?" I asked, and then I added sadly, "I miss it terribly."

"Because, my all too tempting Wife," he kissed the end of my nose and it was nearly my undoing as rivulets of desire shot through me. "I find, after five hundred years, that I rather like having my head set firmly upon my shoulders."

I sighed as fond and strangely arousing memories of past romantic interludes danced through my mind. "Ben, there's got to be a way for us to be . . .uhm, well, a . . . a normal married couple again."

"If it's any consolation to you, my sweetling, I miss our more intimate encounters just as much as you do." His voice was deep and husky and I heard possessiveness echo in every word. The sound sent a shiver of desire up my spine.

We were silent for a time, simply enjoying the close contact that the act of cuddling offered us. Finally I felt Ben's body shift as he began untangling us so that we might face the coming day. Suddenly a wave of deep sadness washed through me and whined in protest. Instantly he kissed me and to my surprise, for the first time since that faithful night in the grotto . . . his mouth was in possession of mine. It was very brief, but even so, I could feel every ounce of his longing and desire telegraph from his lips to mine. I must have looked more startled than I intended to because I heard him chuckle as he helped me up from the bed.

"I promise I'll do a better job of that later when we're not so rushed." He told me as he led me towards the bathroom for my morning shower. "In the mean time, Esme likely has breakfast ready for you and Bart . . . and I thought I heard Carlisle say something about Abigail joining us this morning."

I heard him turn on the shower for me and set the water temperature. Even though I was capable of running my own shower, Ben had done it for me every morning since I became human again. I understood, of course, it was part of his way of 'taking care' of me. "Do you think you can manage from here?" he asked and I heard him lay out a towel for me on top of the counter by the sink.

"If I said no, would you join me and give me a bath?" I asked playfully.

"My sweetling is a temptress who does not comprehend the awesome power of her own allure," he replied with a laugh. "Alas, no, . . . if Milady requires more aid, I shall be forced to call for Alice, as I doubt very seriously that I could maintain even the slights sibilance of control at the sight of my beloved unclothed."

"I can manage," I sighed in defeat.

"I thought as much," he replied with a chuckle. "I'll put some clothes out for you on the bed. When you're dressed, come down to the kitchen."

Twenty minutes later I was entering the kitchen. Ben was instantly at my side, one hand on my elbow the other wrapped protectively around me as he led me towards the table. I wasn't sure who was more protective of me, my parents or Ben. As he settled me into my seat, I listened to the sounds around me. The familiar crinkle of Papa's news paper came to my ears first, even as the scent of ink and newsprint filled my nose.

"Good morning Papa," I greeted warmly.

"Good morning Kitten," he replied just as warmly. "Are you feeling any better this morning?"

"Yes, thank you," it was an honest answer. I still felt somewhat guilty about my mother's injuries, but nothing like the paralyzing, all consuming, grief of night before. I listened as my mother crossed the kitchen and set my breakfast plate before me.

"Good morning Mama."I greeted her and then added. "Are you ok? You shouldn't have gone to the trouble of cooking in your condition."

Her rich soothing laughter filled the kitchen and enveloped me in a loving blanket of sound. She bent down and kissed the crown of my head. "I'm fine Kitten, thanks to your father. And as far as cooking for you goes . . . well, it's going to take far more than a couple of detached limbs to keep me out of the kitchen."

I heard footsteps racing down the stairs and then, moments later, my son lumbered into the kitchen and plopped into his seat on the opposite side of Ben. "Good morning everyone," he muttered breathlessly.

"When is Abby due to arrive?" Papa asked casually.

"Oh, I just called her," Bart replied, "She's already on her way and should be here any minuet."

No sooner than he finished his words than the sound of a motorcycle roaring into the yard filled my hearing. I had a hard time thinking of sweet polite Abigail as a _biker chic_, but it was even harder to deny her love affair with two wheeled motorized transportation. It was a passion that Bart also shared and he'd made it known that he didn't want a car for his high school graduation present, he wanted a bike.

"Don't you think you ought to meet the young lady at the door, son." Benjamin suggested gently as he cleared his throat, "After all, it would be the courteous thing for a young Knight to do."

"Oh yeah, right Dad," Bart stammered as he leapt from the table and bolted for the door.

Both Papa and Ben chuckled in response. Bart spent the past seven years of his childhood training in the ways of Knighthood and on his last birthday he had taken his vows. Chivalry was most certainly _not_ dead, as gentlemanly behavior was the rule of the day in both the Cullen and the de Monte Virun families.

I heard the door open and close and then there was a hushed conversation that I respectfully didn't try to listen in to, followed by footsteps coming toward the kitchen. I knew precisely when Abby and Bart entered the room as both Ben and Papa stood to their feet.

"You know, you really don't have to do that," Abby informed them with a bit of a smirk in her voice, "In fact, all this fancy etiquette that you guys practices . . . it kind of creeps me out. I'm always afraid I won't quite measure up, you know?"

"Nonsense, you are a young lady, my dear, and you should be treated as such." Ben said as he resumed his seat. "And as for my son, if he should ever treat you as anything less, you let me know and I shall introduce him to the broad side of my sword."

I couldn't help but giggle, not once in seven years had Ben ever physically disciplined Bart. I couldn't imagine him doing it now, though Bart once told me he would have preferred it to his father's lengthy lectures. A smile curled the corners of my mouth; Ben's lectures paled in comparison to Papa's, my father could practically bring a body to repentant tears without saying an unkind word or raising his voice above a whisper.

"Is the young lady hungry?" my mother asked from the direction of the kitchen. "I've made more than enough."

"Yes please, Grandma Esme." Abby replied sweetly. Ever since she learned to talk Abigail had called my parents, Grandma Esme and Grandpa Carlisle. Everyone said that this was because Bart called them so.

Soon we were all served and enjoying our meals in relative peace until Bart broke the silence. "So, about yesterday . . . you guys really are, you know, vampires?"

"That is correct." Papa answered absently as he turned the page of his paper. The breeze stirred by the motion brought a fresh wave of newsprint scent to my nose.

"And you guys really drink . . . you know . . . blood?" a hint of confusion tented his voice and made me suddenly worry. My fork stopped half way of its journey to my mouth. Ben squeezed my thigh gently to reassure me and I finished taking the bit. I knew that Papa and Ben as well as my brothers and Jacob were supposed to tell Bart the truth yesterday and I had been worried sick about how he would take things.

"Also correct," Papa replied calmly, "But unlike the vast majority of our kind, this family lives off the blood of animals, like deer and elk, not the blood of humans."

"It's the only reason that the Pack tolerates the bloodsuc . . ." Abby paused to correct herself. "Sorry Grandpa, I mean why the Cullens and your folks are allowed to exist peacefully in the area."

"Wait a minute," Bart sounded hurt now as well as confused. "You knew about this Abs, why didn't you tell me?"

There was a rather pregnant pause and the air in the room became uncomfortably thick as we waited for Abby's response.

"Yes, I knew . . . but I've only known since my first phasing a couple of years ago," She explained. I heard Bart snort in disgust, undaunted by this Abby continued her explanation. "I was . . . _commanded_ by my Alpha not to tell you anything about your family. Jacob said that Grandpa Carlisle would tell you when it was time. You have no idea how hard it was keeping such a big secret from you . . . it felt dirty, like a lie."

"Your Alpha _commanded_ you," Bart sneered hotly and I could hear the hurt in his voice. "What's that supposed to mean Abs, is that like when Daddy Jacob says jump and you ask how high? I'm sorry, and no offense to you personally Dad, but if my old man told me to keep some awful secret from you Abby . . . one _that affected you directly_ I'm not sure I could obey."

"That's because you have a choice in the matter," my father inserted calmly. "Abigail has no choice _but _to obey when given a direct command by her Alpha. The mere thought of disobedience would be enough to cause her a great deal of physical as well as emotional pain."

"So you mean, even after we're married, your Dad and the Pack are going to be the third wheel in our lives?" Bart inquired his voice tight with hurt and anger. "You'll keep secrets from me if he _commands_ it of you, while poor dumb Bartman plods along none the wiser . . . does that about sum things up?"

"It's not like that Bart." Abby answered softly. I could read oceans of heartbreak in her voice and I wanted nothing more that to go to her and wrap her in my embrace. It seemed that in spite of not sharing any biological connection Bart and Ben were more alike than different . . . like father like son and unfortunately, they shared the same exquisite rage.

"The hell you say." I heard the chair legs scrap against the floor as Bart stood up, and then he marched wordlessly toward the front door.

I listened as he slammed the front door behind him, but then my hearing was suddenly redirected to the sound of soft sobbing. Abby was crying and it broke my heart. I loved Abs as if she were my own daughter . . . in a way it mirrored how Mama felt about me and the rest of her children. I struggled to get up but Ben restrained me, I was furious at first but then I realized why; Mama was already offering her the physical comfort I had intended to give. Knowing my need to help her, even in a small way, Ben discreetly guided my hand to grasp Abby's and I clutched it tightly in mine.

"It's all right child," Papa soothed in a voice all too familiar to me. "He'll cool off soon enough and be back before you know it."

"I didn't mean to hurt him," she sobbed and my heart nearly split in two. How could my son be so insensitive?

Before I could say anything Benjamin spoke in a soft hushed tone, "_But he that_ _dare not grasp the thorns. Should never crave the rose_." He paused briefly to allow his words to sink in; I found the quote from Anne Bronte as profound and sympathetic as it was purely romantic. "Though Sarah and I have been together for only a brief heartbeat of time, I can tell you from experience, my child, that this quote is ever true. Love, in the best and headiest of times, is intoxicating ambrosia, the cup of Baucus overflowing with delight from which lovers drink their giddy fill. In the worst of times it is a heart wrenching and agonizing journey through the bleakest emotional wastelands imaginable.

"And yet, given all this, it is a thing that I cherish even more than my own existence and crave more desperately than blood. I count myself a most blessed man indeed for having found Sarah and being fortunate enough to have her constant presences in my life, but we have not had an easy time of things.

"Struggle, Abigail, is the norm in matters of love and not the exception. Nothing worth having is easily obtained and nothing worth keeping is held without a fight. If you crave the rose, my dearest, you must endure the painful prick of the thorns in order to have and hold it."

I wanted to cry. I had often been privileged to have him comfort me in this way, but there was just something about the tender way Ben ministered to our heartbroken little Abby that made me melt inside. It took my insufferably slow human mind a moment to decipher why; his word had a double meaning. The quote from Bronte reflected the truth about love and relationships in general, but it was also a concise summary of our current situation . . . my mortal illness, the threat of William, the attack on Mama were all thorns that must be endured for want of the rose . . . for want of love and family.


	10. Chapter 10

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!!

_So don't get all impressed with the fact that I'm posting yet another chapter, the third in three days. No, I'm not on some mad writing bender; I'm just catching you guys up on material I already had. I only needed to finish the second section of this for posting. This chapter was a bit more time consuming to write however, because of the technical aspects of it. I spent a lot of time trying to recall things I learned in chemistry and my biology course work. I hope it's convincing enough._

_Enjoy!!_

_Blue_

_PS: You've reached the end of my pre-written and saved stuff from here on out I have to work again._

****************

Chapter 10

**Weird Science**

* * *

_The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity. _

_**Albert Einstein**_

* * *

A week had passed since William's foiled attack on the house. After his escape, Zafrina and her sisters tracked him to the cliffs near Billy's house. His trail ended there, he'd thrown himself from the jagged rocks into the tumultuous sea. I was certain that we hadn't heard the last of him. His escape route afforded him the luxury of cropping up again anywhere and without warning. This fact left me feeling very uneasy.

On a happier note, Esme had recovered from her injuries completely. Within three days she was hunting on her own again and puttering around the house as well as in her garden. It did wonders for my long dead heart to watch her hunting again that first night as she took down a large bull elk. The image of her laying in the middle of our living room, mangled like the accident victims I had so often seen in my ER, was sure to haunt me for eternity.

Unfortunately, Sarah's guilty heart wasn't as easily mended as detached vampire limbs. Or best efforts notwithstanding, she still felt somehow responsible for her mother getting hurt on account of the fact the William was her brother. This feeling persisted in spite of my constant assurances that she could never be held accountable for the actions of another.

I have always been a consummate preacher and teacher of personal accountability and it pained me greatly that my daughter persisted in her self-flagellation. Yet there seemed to be little I could do to convince her that she wasn't to blame. At my request, Edward monitored her thoughts with extreme vigilance, the only thing that was remotely encouraging to me was the fact that, according to him, her negative internal dialogue had toned down somewhat over the course of the week, but the viscous thoughts still cropped up with a regular vengeance.

Poor Jasper was having the worst time of it; I could easily read the conflict and turmoil of emotion on his face. The burden of helping me with Sarah while keeping the rest of the family on an even emotional keel was wearing on him. Alice told me that the two of them might need to take a little brake soon. With the threat of William still very real, she assured me that they wouldn't go far. I offered them the use of the cabin Esme and I owned north of the boarder in Canada. It was our private retreat and Alice had been hesitant at first, but eventually she and Jasper accepted.

Given the lingering dark cloud of William, security around my home now mimicked that surrounding the First Family. The entire tribe was involved in protecting us . . . even the reservation's part time sheriff and his three deputies were now on call for us. For all the good it would do, a squad car was parked outside my home at all times. I would have found the whole affair highly amusing if it weren't downright frightening.

A week had also passed since I'd started running tests on Sarah's blood and the water samples from Peru. I found my progress with those just as irritating as William's invasion of my sanctum sanctorum. Even now I sat at my desk staring at the third set of results of the mass spectrometry analysis of the Water. Why I'd run the test three time I didn't know, perhaps I'd hoped the first two runs were flawed.

The water had a high mineral content, as I had expected, but the tests also reviled something highly unusual. There was a peek on the mass spec read out that didn't correspond to any known compound or element. The substance was completely unknown. If I were a human scientist I would be looking forward to a Nobel Prize in Chemistry for my ground breaking discovery. Not being one to indulge in pomposity, I simply called my find _Element X_, at least until I could come up with something more fitting.

Also to my fascination, when I looked at the water under my microscope, I found it teaming with a very unusual sort of life form. It wasn't a bacterium nor was it a virus, but rather it was some sort of here to for unseen microscopic animal. I found this odd because the water was more acidic than was preferred by most organisms. I was even further astonished when I tried to isolate these creatures and grow them in a Petri dish. The little colony died almost immediately. I tried this several times, always with the same result, even when I adjusted the ph of the dish to match that of the water from which they came the experiment still ended in failure.

In frustration I put down the Mass Spec report and turned my focus to the results of Sarah's blood tests. My colleague, Dr. Raven, had graciously agreed to help me with Sarah's case, running the tests in the hospital's lab which, in spite of my great interest in research, was still more extensive than my home lab. He had faxed the results over along with a simple cover letter apologizing for the delay, sighting the fact that he too had run the labs multiple times and instructing me to do a wet mount of Sarah's blood. He insisted I would find it very intriguing.

I went to my lab's small fridge and retrieved one of the test tubes containing Sarah's blood. After preparing the slide, I slipped it under the objective lens of my microscope and peered through the eyepiece. I was astounded by what I saw; the same organism I found in the Water also swam happily in the smear of my daughter's blood on the slide.

My first reaction was to pronounce the organism a parasite, but I held off on this for a moment. For reasons I couldn't explain, I felt suddenly compelled to perform the same analysis on Sarah's blood that I had on the Water. Wonder of wonders, I found high levels of Element X in my daughter's blood. Now inescapably intrigued, I decided to run one more test . . . on a sample of Sarah's venom that I'd collected before her ill-fated trip. Once again I found Element X, but in an even higher concentrations than I'd encountered in either the Water or Sarah's blood.

Now I was truly baffled. While I could understand how Sarah might have gotten Element X as well as the parasite into her system in Peru, I couldn't fathom how the element had found its way into her pre-trip venom samples. Out of curiosity, I preformed the analysis on my own venom, a fresh sample that I collected then and there. Element X stared back at me, laughing haughtily at my ignorance.

I slumped into the chair at my desk feeling utterly defeated. _'You should be_ _ecstatic, giddy with the new knowledge you've gained,'_ my inner voice mocked, _'it's not every day that you discover a new element or a previously unknown life_ _form in one fell swoop.'_ But I was far from happy. The conundrum that was my daughter's condition had just deepened by a hundred fold. I had a thousand new questions, but only the barest of hints for answers.

Dejected, I decided to reach out to the one person I had come to rely on as a sounding board over the centuries. He had always proved to be a thoughtful listener, both to my personal problems as well as my scientific ones. In spite of the fact that he didn't always understand the science behind my research projects, he did comprehend their overall importance of them. Ordinarily we communicated by handwritten letter, but he had recently decided to boldly step into the 21st century by acquiring a cell phone. No doubt we would still write each other, but the phone made staying connected much easier . . . and faster.

I scrolled through the index on my phone and dialed the appropriate number, then I waiter for the answer on the other end.

"Yes, good evening." Aro answered a bit stiffly; he had only had his new iphone for about three weeks. "Who is calling please?"

"Hello old friend," I replied, confident he would recognize my voice.

"Ah ha, Carlisle, it is so good to hear you." Aro purred with delight. "But do not get the notion that phone calls will replace our letters. It is a _dying_ art, letter writing, we will not let it become a _dead_ art."

"Of course not," I assured him, at the sound of his voice my frown had become a smile and my previous anxiety seemed to ease somewhat.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call," he asked, "or were you simple testing the number I gave you just to see if I was telling you the truth about my plunge into the modern world?"

"I would never presume test you," I began. "I called because I have a dilemma that I would appreciate your council on. However, before I share my burden with you, I must insist you not share this with Caius. It involves Sarah and she doesn't trust your brother as far as she can spit."

"She is not the only one to mistrust Caius." Aro informed me dryly. "I do not fully trust him myself. I tell you a closely guarded truth; for centuries I have been blamed for murdering Marcus' mate, but it was not me . . . it was Caius. His wife was jealous of the friendship that existed between Sulpicia and Didyme, they were like sisters. So Athenodora went to her husband and complained, filling his ears with every conceivable manor of lies. Soon after this, Didyme was destroyed by an unknown assassin."

Aro's confession was quite a shock; I had never heard this story before. Though I never truly believed that my long time friend had killed Marcus' mate, I had accepted the prevailing opinion and hoped that everyone was wrong. I was glad my faith was well placed. With a deep breath a launched in to my narrative, explaining what happened to Sarah in Peru as well as filling him on my test results.

"I am very sorry for young Sarah and for your family." Aro sighed. "What can I do to help?"

"Have you ever heard of anything like this before," I asked, trying not to sound desperate. At over three thousand years of age, Aro might be the only one among us old enough to possess the wisdom I sought. "Your library contains ancient works from many cultures, even Ptolemy's fabled Royal Library of Alexandria; do you recall reading anything that might be helpful?"

The line was silent for several seconds then I heard Aro let out a breath. "I have not read even a full third of the volumes in my vast library, but of the ones I have read . . . I've come across nothing that would be of assistance to you. However, I will begin my research in earnest as soon as I get off the phone. If I find anything I will scan the document and email it to you. In the mean time please tell Sarah how much my wife and I care about her and that we will be working very hard to help figure this out."

When I ended my call with Aro, I felt much better. Following his unsuccessful attempt to destroy my family after Nessie's birth, my relationship with the leader of our world went sour . . . actually rancid would be more accurate. But while the _'Cullen Crises'_, as it was known throughout the Vampire Nation, was the _low point_ in our friendship, the day my wife and daughters stormed into the Volturi palace to rescue me was it's _turning point_. As we worked together to build a new nation, we also reconciled our differences and now Aro and I shared an even closer bond than we ever had before.

*****

"I have a . . . _thing _inside me!" I exclaimed in disbelief. This revelation only added insult to injury considering the overall level of chaos in my life at the moment. "You're telling me I have a _thing_ . . . inside me!" I repeated at an even more elevated volume.

"Sarah, please calm down." Papa insisted in his most soothing voice. "There's no need for hysterics, the organism has been inside you since you ingested the Water, and you haven't come to any harm. Now I doubt very seriously . . ."

"No harm!" I shouted. When I felt Benjamin tighten his grip on my hand and heard him gently clear his throat I realized that perhaps I should lower my voice . . . at least a little. "With all due respect Papa, how can you say that I've come to no harm. I'm human again, against my wishes. I very nearly lost my sanity and now I have to be on medicine that robs me of my gifts. And to top it all off, in a year this . . . _thing_ is going to kill me."

I heard my father sigh loudly before he responded, "I can see your point, of course, perhaps what I should have said was; you're in no immediate danger."

"It's a parasite then," Ben inquired in the soft yet serious voice that he usually reserved for his legal clients. "Is there some way to destroy it, some medicine you could give her to rid her of it."

"I tried several well know anti-parasitic drugs on samples in the lab," Papa confessed. "None of them were effective. The organisms seem to thrive on Element X, removal of the element from their environment causes instantaneous collapse of the parasitic colony."

"Then filter this strange element out of her blood." Mama suggested in her usual bright effervescent manor. "You know, like the dialysis you do every week on Billy."

My father's frustrated chuckle filled my ears followed moments later by the tell tale sound of him giving my mom a quick chastened kiss. "What the lot of you fails to realize is that, for your benefit, I have vastly oversimplified the science behind this discovery.

"To surmise thing concisely; Element X is present, in extremely high concentrations, in our venom and tissue and, because Sarah was once a vampire, it is present in her blood and tissue as well. How it got there and what precisely its function is, are still mysteries to me. I do know that this parasite thrives on the element _and_ that it is the organism's bio-waste that is responsible for reversing Sarah's transformation as well as maintaining her life."

"Symbiosis," Edward whispered faintly. "But according to Zafrina, dead animals and such were cast into the pool and brought back to life. By your account Element X is unique to us."

"To us _and_ to the water in the pool," my father corrected gently. "The element is easily absorbed by organic tissue, even dead organic tissue it would seem . . . where it tends to concentrate. It is especially fond of bonding to the heme group, found in blood. As the element concentrates in the test subjects tissues, the organism is drawn to these more favorable conditions, thus excreting their bio-waist which intern reanimates the host. The whole process is really quite fascinating."

"Maybe for you," I squeaked, "but not for me, organisms 1, host 0. The score card isn't too encouraging."

I heard Papa cross the room and come to kneel before me. His cold yet gentle hand cupped my face and his thumb brushed my cheek affectionately. "I'm sorry if I made my explanation sound terribly clinical, it wasn't my intention. Trust me Kitten, I haven't lost sight of the reason for my inquiry. _You_ are the very real and present cause for my pursuits and I keep that fact firmly centered in the focus of my mind each and every time I enter the lab.

"I know I made the promise to you earlier, but it is worthy of my constant repetition . . . I will do everything within my power to make you whole again, Sarah."


	11. Chapter 11

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to twilight or its characters

_OK, **now **you can accuse me of being on a mad writting bender!_

Chapter 11

**The Law of Tooth and Claw**

* * *

_Now Rann the Kite brings home the night_

_That Mang the Bat sets free–_

_The herds are shut in byre and hut_

_For loosed till dawn are we._

_This is the hour of pride and power,_

_Talon and tush and claw._

_Oh, hear the call!–Good hunting all_

_That keep the Jungle Law!_

_**The Jungle Book**__: Night-song in the Jungle, _

_Rudyard Kipling_

* * *

I sat at my desk in my office pouring over the glyphs from the grotto which Zafrina had recently translated. The accounts of the Inca priests were both detailed and astounding. In spite of the antiquity of the information before me, the meticulous and highly scientific nature of their experiments did not escape my amazement.

My little girl was taking the news about having an unknown parasite in her system in her usual sadly stoic manor. After the initial shock of hearing about it died down, the tenor of her thought shifted, Edward told me, from shock and panic to resignation. Much of this rapid about-face had to do with Benjamin's influence. He took her for a long drive after our emotion charged conversation and when they returned she seemed to be feeling better. I noticed an odd smirk on Edwards face when Sarah and Ben arrived back at home several hours later. When I confronted him about it he would say nothing, nor would he say anything specific about the nature of Sarah and Ben's excursion.

That was days ago, and while she still seemed sad most of the time . . . on occasions I was relieved to see the sunshine of her smile peek from behind the cloudiness of her frown. Thought I found her emotional state and current behavior patterns very distressing, perhaps with both Ben and me ministering to her, there was some hope of drawing her from her trauma induced doldrums.

I was just finishing the last page of the translation when the soft rustle of fabric filled my ears. The sound was accompanied by the pungent spiciness of human scent punctuated with the light fragrance of lavender . . . my daughter's personal aroma.

When she cleared her throat to get my attention I looked up to find Sarah standing in the open doorway of my office. She seemed rather timid standing there as she was; this new uncertainty in her demeanor was a side of her that I was unaccustomed to and I was deeply troubled by it. My once lion hearted daughter had now become a trembling lamb. I knew this was due to a number of stressful factors; first and foremost, of course, was her sudden and unexpected return to humanity and the sword of Damocles that came along with that change, then there was the medication I had her on in order to keep her mentally stable as well as all the new information she was receiving, both about her condition and her heretofore deceased brother . . . even I would likely find so much trauma daunting, were I in her place.

"Papa," she called softly as if she wasn't entirely certain of my presence in the room before her. Then I realized that she truly _was _uncertain as I hadn't moved or spoken since she came to stand there.

"Come in Kitten," I answered her as I rose from my desk and moved to her side to usher her into the room. "Are you all right?"

I appraised her silently as I moved us towards the leather couch along the south wall of my office; she didn't smell of injury or illness, however, the acrid back note of fear, which seemed to be almost a constant component in her fragrance these days, lingered heavily on her.

"I'm disturbing you," she stammered shyly as she attempted to extricate herself from the crook of my arm. "I should come back later when you're not so busy."

I tightened my grip lightly; she wouldn't be dashing off to her escape quite as easily as that. Lately, trying to corner her for any sort of meaningful private conversation was rather like trying to hold a summer breeze in your clinched fist. "Nonsense," I soothed as I settled her on the couch and took my seat beside her. "I'm never too busy for my family . . . now, what's on your mind?"

Suddenly she was panting hard in an attempt to catch her breath and her heart thundered in her chest like a herd of wild horses; instantly I recognized the symptoms . . . she was having a panic attack. I spoke softly to her as my hand went to her back and I massaged slow soothing circles between her shoulder blades. It took several minutes but soon she was calm again.

"Kitten, if this is about William's attack and you mother's subsequent injuries," I sighed sadly; I'd actually lost count of the number of times that I had reassured her on this matter. "I assure you, _yet again_ . . ."

"_You_ don't have to feel vulnerable," she cut me off before I could finish. Her body was shaking with pent up emotion and I sat silently as I waited for the rest of her tirade. It surprised me how readily she was opening up, as I feared I would have to work at drawing her out, but like a boil ripe for lancing, the poison flowed freely from her heart. "_You_ still have your inhuman speed and strength, you're still virtually indestructible . . . _you_ are a fortress, a veritable juggernaut in your own skin. Meanwhile, look at me . . . at what I've become; I'm nothing more than a lump of squishy clay, like the ones in my studio. I'm helpless, incapable of my own defense . . . at the mercy of _others_ and in the position of relying on my family for my personal security."

"Sarah," I began gently, this situation would require a great deal of fineness and I needed to select my words with care. "If you think that we somehow mind being your guardians, you're very much mistaken. I consider it an honor . . ."

"It's not an honor Papa," she hissed, "It's a necessity and you know it . . . because fragile human Sarah can't protect herself against big bad vampires like William." Her hands raked shakily through her silky brown tresses in angry frustration. It pained me to see her this way, but she needed to get her feelings out in the open. "He could have killed Mama _and_ my sisters . . . and I would have been helpless to do anything beyond stand there like a fence post and listen to their agonizing screams."

Her statement struck a resounding chord with me, Edward once told me of a single haunting memory he witnessed in his sister's mind. She was very small, I remember him saying, and the memory was of the day her parents died. Her father stood like David before the hulking Goliath as he faced Cane's ominous form, armed with only a baseball bat gripped firmly in his frail human hands. When the beast charged, her father swung the bat striking Cane full across the chest, the bat shattered and a rain of fragments blanketed the room. It was one of these that struck Sarah in the head, impaling her skull and robbing her of her sight.

How frightened and despaired she must have felt that day, laying on the dusty wooden floor blind and bleeding while she listened to the tortured screams of her family being massacred. I could make only a feeble attempt at imagining what that horror must have been like for her. The experience left a lasting mark on my daughter both emotionally and psychologically.

"_. . . No one is every taking anything from Sarah ever again . . . no one is taking Sarah's family away from her, ever!"_ She drilled that phrase into my skull while looming as a shape-shifted lion over my helpless body. The words still vibrated in my mind with the tenor of her wild angry roaring. A truer statement had never been made and Sarah would prove it to me repeatedly of the course of the next few years.

"If I can't be the powerful immortal that I was before," her trembling voice pleaded, drawing me from my thoughts. "Then at least give me back my gifts . . . please Papa, I hate being helpless?"

"Have you lost all hope in my research then?" I asked. I knew she trusted me heart and soul, but I was baiting her a bit.

"No, you're brilliant Papa and I trust you completely," she paused and her shoulders slumped. "I just . . . don't want to be helpless anymore, please."

I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her into my side, planting an affectionate kiss on the crown of her head as I did so. Her confession and subsequent plea tugged strongly at my heartstrings. The father in me wanted, more than anything, to give in to her request as there was some logic behind it, but the doctor in me knew better. To discontinue her medication would lead to ruination, her behavior would become erratic and her thoughts would spiral into the dark web of madness. In spite of how much it hurt me to deny her, it was in her best interest that I did.

"Now sweetheart," I began, but got no further. She threw off my arm and leapt from the couch, but she took only a couple of steps before stopping. Though she'd been in my office often enough, she didn't have the lay of it memorized as well as she had the rest of the house, and I suppose she feared tripping and falling without her sight to guide her.

"I knew you'd say no." she grumbled in an angry whisper.

"Now, sweetheart," I began a second time as I brought her back to the couch and settled her once more. "I'm not trying to be unkind . . . I wholeheartedly sympathize with your plight, but to take you off your medication would be very unwise."At my words, I watched with deep regret as my beloved daughter slump into a dejected heap on my couch.

I ran my own hand through my short blond locks in frustration as I tried to think of some way to salvage the situation. There had to be some way to give Sarah back her sense of self-security, to turn the trembling lamb back into a roaring lion. And then it struck me, like a bolt from the blue . . . divine inspiration on a monumental scale I had never known before. Mentioning it would sound to her as though I was changing the subject, but I had to take the risk . . . I only hoped that my hastily assumed theory was correct else wise, her present dejected state would seem mild by comparison.

"Kitten," I was all nerves as I cooed softly to her. "I think perhaps I might have a solution to your . . . feelings of insecurity."

"You're going to take me off my meds?" she asked hopefully, perking up a bit as she did.

"No." I answered quietly. "But what I have in mind might be better."

I was encouraged as I watched interest light her hazel eyes. "As you know your gifts are currently inaccessible to you because the medicine I have you on alters you brain chemistry. But have you attempted to summon your _other_ gift . . . the snarling, roaring, tawny coated one with fangs and claws?"

A fleeting smile crossed her lips only to be replaced by a frown. "If my other gifts won't work, why would that one?"

Obviously she hadn't attempted it, I mused, as she assumed her efforts would only end in failure. "Well, your ability to shape-shift is in no way tied to you other mental abilities. It's purely physical, a genetic trait passed down to you through your Choctaw heritage. If my theory is correct," I paused to take a breath and whisper a silent petition to Heaven that I was correct, "You should still be able to shape-shift."

"I haven't felt the lion within me since I started the meds," she sighed sadly, "Not a roar, not a growl, not even a purr."

"I'm not surprised," I offered sympathetically. "The _'inner lion'_ as you refer to him, is simply the mental personification of you inherent power. The medication might interfere with that aspect of things, but I'm almost positive it would have no effect on the ability itself." I stood and hauled her from the couch then, being mindful of my strength as I was very excited, and herded her towards my office door. "Why don't we retire to the yard and give it a go?"

*

We marched through the Great Room on our way to the front door and the yard beyond. Papa's arm was wrapped around my hunched shoulders as he led me. There was a certain triumphant air in his steps, my own by comparison were a defeated plod.

He was certain I could still phase, that I could still become the amber eyed, tawny coated, cougar of Choctaw legend. I had serious doubts however, as my inner lion, my spirit guide, had been eerily silent since I awoke human again.

Unfortunately, our procession didn't go unnoticed. "Hey, Grandpa, what's up?" Bart's voice beamed with enthusiasm.

"Your mother and I are going outside to conduct an experiment." Papa answered brightly.

"She actually gets to go outside," the words tumbled unchecked from Abby's mouth. "I thought you guys kept her locked up indoors because she stilled sparkled or something."

"Absolutely not," Papa chuckled, "In fact, perhaps the two of you would like to join us . . . I think you might find this quite interesting."

Great, I though, now I had an audience to watch me fail. I sighed but didn't complain as Papa opened the front door and ushered me outside and into the yard. Behind me I could hear the heavy tromp of two sets of feet, Bart and Abby were following us.

"Wait a minute," I groaned. "I forgot to get a change of clothes. Provided this experiment works, I'm going to need them."

"No need to worry," Papa soothed. "When you're ready to phase back, I'm sure Esme won't mind bringing you fresh clothes."

"Did you say phase?" Abby asked in an odd tone.

"I did indeed," Papa practically hummed with delight. "Oh, that's right the two of you don't know about that . . . Sarah is a shape-shifter. The ability emerged shortly after she became a vampire."

"A Shape-shifting vamp," Abby sneered, "Who's her Alpha, you Grandpa Carlisle?"

"I don't have an Alpha," I replied. "Cats hunt alone."

"Cats?" Abby repeated.

"That's correct, Sarah phases into an enormous mountain lion," Papa supplied happily. "It's really quite impressive." Then he turned his attention to me. "I'm not entirely comfortable with depositing you in the bushes by yourself, you can use Esme's garden shed for privacy while you phase."

He took me to the shed and left me alone inside, like Superman in his telephone booth, I sighed to myself. Absently, I listened as the three of them wandered several yards away, still talking about the impossibility of a shape-shifting vampire. Papa chuckled loudly as her related the story of my game of Quileute tag with Jacob.

I closed my eyes and my heart sank to my shoes. I felt like such a fake, like the sideshow magician exposed for the charlatan he was. Still, for Papa's sake, I had to try, so I stilled my thoughts and focused on initiating the change. I soon discovered it was much more difficult to find perfect silence inside my head as a human. Holding the mental images of each part of my body becoming feline proved a frustrating task. I tried several times, without success and my cheeks burned as fire with the embarrassment of my failure.

"Try getting angry." Abby's voice boomed in the closed space of the shed. Obviously Papa had sent her to check on my progress, but I'd been so focused that I hadn't heard her approach. "It works for me; strong emotion makes it come easier."

That made sense, the first time I phased I was afraid the Pack was going to kill Ben and I was upset because I was helpless to stop it. "Thanks Abs," I whispered as I listened to her turn and walk away.

I reached deep inside for well of anger and frustration I'd been feeling since my return to humanity. It was a jumbled up tangled up ball of emotional string that seemed to have no end and no beginning. My mind jumped from one thing to another like a frog on hot stones, never settling on any one burning ache or gnawing pain long enough for me to truly grasp it.

That is until, I hit on _the one_ . . . I was amazed as their images, in the brilliant points of golden light conjured by my sound vision, danced through my imagination. First I saw Papa, I remember muttering the words _'Oh my God, you're so_ _handsome'_ before I could censor myself. My Mama came next, the goddess Hestia comes down from Olympus. Each of my siblings one by one as they stepped out into the night breeze and introduce themselves anew to me, Benjamin; my mate, my Dionysus, the absolute light of my existence . . . and Bart, the child of my heart.

It was not wild furry the suffused the very fibers of my being. No, it was not the all consuming fire of white hot anger, but another _even stronger_ emotion . . . _Love_. A torrent deep abiding love surged within me with the force of a tsunami. Love for the family that surrounded me with their steadfast supported through every gut wrenching tragedy and every exuberant joy.

But, _Love_ soon mingled itself inexorably with another strong emotion, that of _Loyalty_. I saw once more my mother's face dancing in my imagination and I felt a fresh wave of pain as the reality of her recent injuries hit me again. William hurt my family . . . no one hurts Sarah's family . . . no one takes from Sarah . . . _No one is every taking anything from Sarah ever again!_

The power of the lion's roar filled me; body, mind, and soul. Its presence was so heavy within my being I felt my mouth fly open to allow the force of it free as it ripped past my throat. The world shifted, and I found myself standing at the bottom of a cliff looking up at my Lion, his thick black and tan mane whipping in the light evening breeze. He was there, just as he had been that first time I phased, apprising me like the great Solomon with his warm amber eyes. He must have found me worthy, because he let out an earth shattering roar and suddenly I was no longer at the bottom of the cliff . . . I was on top of it looking down at where I had once stood.

Slowly I opened my natural eyes to find that I could once again see. For whatever reason sight returned to me whenever I phased, but once I returned to my natural form . . . blindness was my world again. I allowed my gaze to drop and found the familiar fur covered forelegs of the panther holding me up. In an expression of curious joy, I flexed the muscles in my paws and felt my razor sharp claws extend and dig into the pine floorboards.

"Sarah," my father's voice called from outside, he sounded very concerned.

I swallowed hard before pushing the shed door open with my paw and emerging into the late afternoon light. I found Papa standing between Abby and Bart, wearing a broad grin born of pure satisfaction.

"Whoa," Abby gasped with disbelief as she took an unconscious step backwards. "Now that's defiantly _not_ your run of the mill house cat."

"Mom," Bart questioned. I saw the slightest hint of fear in his eyes and it almost broke my heart. "Can you hear me, do you recognize me?"

"Of course she does you idiot." Abby corrected him and then she punched him in the arm to emphasize her point. "Just like I still recognize you when I'm phased . . . _god_ you so lame some times."

I couldn't help my chortle.

"Did she just laugh?" Bart asked Papa.

"I do believe she did," he answered as he motioned me to approach.

I closed the distance between us in three strides. The top of my head brushed against Papa's thigh as I rubbed the length of my body against him in a display of feline affection. The fingers of his right hand found the ecstasy spot between my ears and a deep rumbling purr filled my chest and made the air around me vibrate.

"I told you that you could do it . . . I had every confidence in you," he whispered warmly.

* * *

**AN:** for those of you who might be wondering, yes I'm working on chapters for _**Cullen Bunch**_ (I haven't forgotten about the party!) and _**Little Deer**_. Sometimes it gets a little hairy juggling three stories at once. This chapter _had to happen_ . . . NOW, I love Sarah, but I was getting just a little tired of her _'Gloom, despair, and agony_ _on me'_ attitude and I felt the need to give her some of her old fire back. Quite frankly she was even beginning to wear on Papa Carlisle's eternally patient nerves. So now, in spite of her illness, she can be a bit more independent or self-secure . . . let's see where it goes.


	12. Chapter 12

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!!

*****

Chapter 12

**Lion, Lion, Burning Bright!**

* * *

_The Law of the Jungle, which never orders anything without a reason, forbids every beast to eat Man except when he is killing to show his children how to kill, and then he must hunt outside the hunting grounds of his pack or tribe. The real reason for this is that man-killing means, sooner or later, the arrival of white men on elephants, with guns, and hundreds of brown men with gongs and rockets and torches. Then everybody in the jungle suffers._ _The reason the beasts give among themselves is that Man is the weakest and most defenseless of all living things, and it is unsportsmanlike to touch him. They say too–and it is true –that man-eaters become mangy, and lose their teeth._

_**The Jungle Book**_

_Rudyard Kipling_

* * *

I tied the tourniquet tightly around Sarah's feline foreleg and began to gently palpate her flesh for the vain. Unlike dogs and wolves who whimpered when afraid or in pain, Sarah made soft plaintive mewing sounds like those of a newborn kitten looking for its mother. She had been mewing like that since I coerced her into my lab. I knew she detested having blood drawn and the last time I'd taken a sample from her in her shape-shifted form it was very painful. The only reason I was subjecting her to my invasive inquiry now, was the fact that I wished to compare this sample to the ones taken while she was human.

With practiced skill, I found my mark and held this place lightly with my finger as I reached for the alcohol swab. Before I could clean the area, however, the pony sized lion on my exam table began to shake so hard that I feared the stainless steel table would collapse. I sighed as I began to whisper softly to her; animals, like people hated to see the doctor, especially when needles were involved.

"Settle down, Kitten." I soothed. "I'm very good at this, you'll hardly feel it."

I was by no means an expert on the science of veterinary medicine, though to my credit, when I began my medical training back in Europe, aspiring doctors were given some education in dealing with large farm animals. It was expected in those days, as formal veterinary schools wouldn't come into existence until the late 1700's. After Sarah's first phasing, I took into my library several texts on animal anatomy, physiology, and medicine, most specifically those books pertaining to the family _Felidae_ . . . and all of these texts I'd read most thoroughly.

"You're going to have to be still Sarah." I insisted gently as I picked up and uncapped the needle. The last time her skin and tissues were much harder as she was still expressing her vampire genes, the muscle and tissues under my hand now were as soft and supple as any humans.

"Yeah, Aunt Sarah," Abby encouraged with a grin. "Be a lion not a mou-ess, 'cause you know you've got the nerve," she playfully sang her adapted line of the Cowardly Lion's song from the Wizard of Oz.

I was caught off guard by Abby's impromptu performance and I had to stop what I was doing and laugh. Her off beat sense of humor often reminded me of Alice. In spite of there silliness, her words had the desired effect, and Sarah's shaking eased enough for me to draw the blood that I needed.

When I finished, Sarah leapt nimbly off the table and proceeded to lick the puncture site on her foreleg. At first I thought to scold her for this, but quickly thought better of it. It was a natural cat behavior after all, and therefore it was likely a reflex action for her.

"You were very tolerant, Sarah," I offered her my encouragement as I patted her broad shoulder. "Thank you. Now, why don't you run along to your room and phase back."

She suddenly looked up at me and I was shocked by the expression in her eyes, one would have thought I'd condemned her to death. Ordinarily I would have inquired as to what the matter was, but without her mental gifts she had no way of telling me. Then a freighting thought occurred to me, the very first time she phased she remained stuck in her shifted form for several days because she couldn't figure out how to phase back. I wondered if this might be what she meant to communicate by her chilling gaze.

"You'll get the hang of this, just give it time," I tried to sound comforting even as my mind considered where in our home we would accommodate 980 pounds worth of fur and claws. Esme loved our most unique daughter very much, but after the time Sarah shredded our sofa in anger over my going to face the Volturi alone, my wife became quite particular about where lions could roam freely in her house.

I was just settling on setting up temporary quarters for her in the laundry room when she took hold of my coat sleeve and tugged at it gently. In spite of her obvious care, the fabric still ripped under the assault of her sharp incisors and she let go. She took several steps towards the lab door, stopped, and looked back at me.

"I think she wants you to follow her Grandpa Carlisle." Abby interpreted for me.

"Thank you, Abby, I do believe you're right," I answered my great granddaughter even as my gaze remained fixed on Sarah. "Lead on, Kitten." I gestured with a wave indicating that she should go and I would follow. I was very curious as to what she was up too.

Abby, Bart, and I followed Sarah up the basement stairs and through the house until we came to the Great Room. The sudden and unexpected appearance of an enormous lion in the room startled Edward and Bella who were sitting on the sofa engaged in a hushed conversation. My son immediately jumped from the sofa and dropped into a defensive crouch even as he placed himself between his mate and the perceived danger. I saw him relax and stand to his full height almost instantly as he realized the big cat was his sister.

She paused and stared at him intently and I knew that she was communicating with the only person in my household who could still hear her thoughts. Edward's signature crooked smile slowly spread across his lips and I waited patiently to hear the translation.

"Alright, I'll tell him," my son chuckled. "But I can't promise anything."

"Tell me what," the suspense was starting to get to me.

Edward took a deep breath and sighed, "Well," he began, the smile still clinging to his lips. "It seems Sarah is suffering from a bad case of cabin fever after almost two months of being cooped up here. And she'd like . . ." He stopped in mid sentence and turned back to Sarah "I know that's not how _you_ said it, I'm trying to be diplomatic . . . now, do you mind if I continue, or would you prefer to resort to pantomime?"

Sarah bowed her head and her tail drooped until the end of it touched the floor. She looked very contrite and I could only guess she was apologizing. Edward continued to hold her in his gaze for three more seconds before he turned his attention back to me.

"_No_, I wasn't being hard on her," he answered my unspoken rebuke before taking another breath and continuing. "She'd like the opportunity to stretch her legs a bit . . . she wants to go for a run."

"I'm not so sure . . ." I began my protest but I was quickly cut off by Abby.

"That's a great idea!" She squealed, I couldn't help but think of Alice again. "I could step outside and phase and we could go running together. It would be really cool to see who's faster . . . a dog or a cat?"

The two of them locked gazes at Abby's suggestion and I could see the friendly rivalry dance between them. Yet another reason for my foreboding, I groaned mentally before forming my careful answer. "Thank you, Abby, but I'm still not entirely sure . . ."

"Bella and I could tag along too." It was Edward who undermined me this time. I shot him a pleading glance but he ignored me. "I don't know about Bella, but I'm feeling a bit thirsty, we could hunt while we're out."

I was now dangling, quite precariously, over the proverbial pickle barrel. I needed to get ready for my shift at the hospital else wise I would simply have said _yes _and tagged along myself. I had apprehensive feelings about letting Sarah go out _even with_ three very capable chaperons . . . experience had shown me that my Kitten had a propensity for finding trouble. Still, if I said no, I would sound like an ogre for keeping her locked up, and I could defiantly see Sarah's point on the matter.

"You're worried about William." I hated it when Edward spoke my unspoken thought like that. I glared at him, but I held my peace. "He's not been spotted or scented anywhere since the attack and even if he were around, he wouldn't recognize his sister looking like that."

"And like every shape-shifter," Abby took up. "Her teeth and claws would make short work of any vamp that foolishly chose to mess with her."

I was cornered and I knew it. And the truly sad part was that Sarah's reawakened power had been wholly my idea. _'That's what you get for not fully thinking thing through_ _Carlisle,'_ I chided myself. I let out a defeated sigh. "Very well, you may go for your run . . . it might even do you some good, but behave yourself and listen to your brother. I'm putting him in charge of this little excursion."

******

It was absolutely glorious! Words didn't exist in any language know to man to express the shear exhilaration I felt racing through the shade dappled forest on silent paws. I was alive, in every single pore of my body, and the electric quality of that feeling made me tingle with excitement. The air around me was literally teaming with aromas, ones I hadn't been able to detect as a human . . . I could actually taste them with my Jacobson's Organ if I opened my mouth a bit. And then there were the sounds; blindness made my hearing very acute for a human, but the acuity of my predatory ears could only be surpassed by vampire hearing. It was enough to make me want to remain in lion from for the rest of my natural life.

But then my thoughts turned to my mate and I realized that some things were better experienced in human form . . . like the rather long passionate kiss he had given me before breakfast only that very morning.

As I nimbly leapt a fallen tree I looked to my left, Edward and Bella were peeling away from our group on a course to intercept the heard of deer whose delectable scent filled the air. I smiled as I turned my gaze back to the trail in front of me, twenty yards directly ahead of me the pale grey outline of Abby in her wolf form churned up the loose forest earth as she ran.

_Tiger, tiger burning bright, In the forest of the night, What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?_ The words from the first stanza of _The Tiger_ by William Blake rattled through my mind. I remembered studying the piece in high school, it was a favorite of mine, but only now did I fully comprehend its meaning. Power, presence, confidence, and the ability to rely completely on one's own self without any lingering traces of pathetic weakness . . . I was that tiger now; _Lion, lion burning bright! _

I didn't realize I'd slowed my pace as I reveled in the glories of my experience, but I had and Abby had disappeared into the sea of green and brown in front of me. With a burst of feline speed, I could easily catch up of course, but I was in no real hurry to do so. I wasn't worried about getting lost either, the scents of everyone I cared about were readily accessible to me and I could track them with ease.

I continued my comfortable jog, Papa would have accused me of lollygagging, and he would have been right . . . I didn't want this magical experience to end any time soon. The scent of deer wafted past me again, coming from the opposite direction of Bella and Edward's hunt. My stomach growled loudly and my mouth began to water, the lion in me was hungry and it wanted to hunt. Without a second though I gave into my instincts and changed direction in mid stride to follow the scent of the deer.

The alluring fragrance was becoming stronger and I knew the heard was close so I slowed my pace. The deer were upwind as I began my stalk, they wouldn't know I was coming if I was careful. There were three of them, two does and a buck. I'd just decided on the buck for my meal when a new set of smells accosted my senses. The first one was human; a male whose aroma was heavily tinted with fear. The second scent was familiar and yet not . . . a vampire I realized by the back note of old blood in his scent, but unlike the scent of Papa and the rest of my family, the blood smell lacked the hint of earthy mustiness of an all animal diet. The vamp in question was of the traditional variety and he was hunting a human well within the borders of my parent's territory.

An irritated growl escaped my throat, startling my intended prey and causing them to flee. Instead of chasing them down however, I decided to pay our unwelcome guest a visit. After all, Papa always said it was rude to hunt in the territory of another without getting permission first. Maybe no one ever took the time to school our intruder on proper predatory etiquette. I turned westward and raced to find the intruder, hoping I could arrive in time to save the hapless human.

I was on my belly now scooting along silently through the tall grass and scruffy bushes as I approached the edge of a deep drop off. Below the little cliff, was the broad gravel wash of a stream bed, the narrow ribbon of water running through it was low and tame at this time of year. When I reached the edge of the cliff, I remained still and quiet as I gazed through the curtain of grass in front of me.

Horror and disgust filled me to the point of sickness at the scene I was secretly witnessing. Down on the gravel wash, not more than thirty feet away, the male vampire was bent over the body of his prey. I was too late to save the poor fisherman who had ventured to this stream for some late season trout fishing. White hot rage welled up with surprising force inside me as I watched the male drop the lifeless body like an empty soda. He now stood, his bright crimson eyes scanning the surrounding area for an appropriate place to dispose of the remains of his meal.

Indignation seized me as a brief flash of my father's final moments facing down Cane flooded my memory. All semblance of rational thought evaporated from me and predatory instinct took over; I leapt from my hiding place as might roar, that startled flocks of birds from the roosting places for miles, preceded me.

The male vampire whirled around to face me, more than a hint of fear plying in his blood brightened eyes. "Holy shit," he cursed under his breath. "It must be the freakn' steroids in the food chain . . . you're the biggest damn cougar I've ever seen."

I chortled even as I pulled back my lips in a vicious snarl; this was followed by another earth shaking roar that echoed off the trees all around us. As I began to slowly circle him, the now nervous vamp extended his arms defensively in front of him.

"Good kitty," he purred softly. "Nice kitty, are you hungry, did the smell of an easy meal draw you out?" My circle brought me to within a couple of feet of the body. The sight of the angry wound on the poor man's broken neck turned my stomach; I roared my displeasure.

"Go ahead kitty-cat, help yourself." He gestured slightly towards the corps. "I'm done with it, you can have the rest . . . it'll save me the trouble of having to bury it."

I was incensed at how little this fiend regarded the lives he took; he was offering the body to me as if it were the remnants of a discarded bologna sandwich. Papa always disposed of his remains properly . . . and he hunted animals, not people. He would never think to leave them for scavengers to consume. I roared again and took several charging steps towards the foul creature causing him to back step quickly to avoid me.

"Hey, take it easy," he murmured when the gravel and dust settled. "I said you could have it. You should fell honored; it's not every day that William is inclined to share."

_William!_ The name brought a low yet fierce growl to my throat as thoughts of my mother's injuries tumbled through my mind. This was the disgusting piece of filth that hurt Mama. My body coiled as I ready myself to pounce. Reading the impending doom in my stance, William muttered more curses and something about hating cats before turning to runaway.

_It was on_; nothing got the predatory instincts of a feline pumped like the promises of the chase and I pounded after my quarry with satisfied abandon. I let go of my senses allowing the lion within me to rise to the forefront and dictate my actions. My focus became singular as my mind locked on the scent of my prey. The ground between us disappeared rapidly as I closed the distance and prepared to strike. I took a graceful hop step as I reached out with one lethal paw and raked at the side of his upper thigh. I felt the fabric of his pant leg shred under my assault even as a scream tore from his throat. My razor sharp claws dug into his stony flesh and it sounded like thousands of fingernails on a chalkboard as I gouged four parallel strips into his leg.

My assault slowed my forward momentum slightly, but the injury I caused slowed my prey's pace as well. He was limping now and I licked my lips with glee. I bounded after him with renewed vigor as my eyes locked on his left calf, just below the knee . . . a well placed bite there would leave him immobile and at my mercy. Just as I caught up to my prey and was about to clamp my tribal jaws down on his leg, a chorus of howls echoed through the trees around me. Too late forest brothers, I mused with a mental sneer, the kill is mine today.

"Cease and desist this instant!!" The angry voice of Papa roared from somewhere behind me. "Stop it, I say!!"

I tumbled to a very ungraceful halt and watched as four wolves exploded from the forest to continue the chase. In frustration I bellowed out one finally tree shaking roar before turning my back on my lost quarry. From the direction I had just come I saw Abby's pale grey lupine form along with Bella, Edward and Papa running towards me at full speed. The look of displeasure on my father's face let me know, without a doubt, that I was in seriously hot water.


	13. Chapter 13

Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!

_I almost didn't make it, but how about that, five for five! I haven't posted a chapter a day since The New Pet._

****

Chapter 13

* * *

**Lion's Law**

* * *

_A black shadow dropped down into the circle. It was Bagheera the Black Panther, inky black all over, but with the panther markings showing up in certain lights like the pattern of watered silk. Everybody knew Bagheera, and nobody cared to cross his path; for he was as cunning as Tabaqui, as bold as the wild buffalo, and as reckless as the wounded elephant. But he had a voice as soft as wild honey dripping from a tree, and a skin softer than down._

"_O Akela, and ye the Free People," he purred, "I have no right in your assembly, but the Law of the Jungle says that if there is a doubt which is not a killing matter in regard to a new cub, the life of that cub may be bought at a price. And the Law does not say who may or may not pay that price. Am I right?"_

_**The Jungle Book**_

_Rudyard Kipling_

* * *

They sat motionless like four turtles on a log, cowering in repentant silence before the perfect storm of my anger. Edward occupied the arm of the sofa while Bella, Sarah and Abby filled the cushions. I was beside myself with rage, to the point were coherent though and the ability to form words eluded me. So I stood there glaring daggers at my children and great grandchild while silently cursing myself for allowing the fiasco to happen in the first place.

I had my apprehensions about allowing Sarah to go out, not that I wished to be her jailer by any means, but I should have listened to my instincts. If there was trouble to be had anywhere in the world, my Sarah would inevitably find it and then burry herself waist deep in the muck of it. It was in her nature after all, even as an immortal. Just as Bella was an accident magnate attracting near fatal calamity to her where ever she went, so Sarah attracted tribulation on a nearly biblical scale with the regularity of the changing seasons. Her unmatched propensity in this regard was a thing that boggled the mind.

I replayed the phone call from Edward and subsequent events in my mind,

"_She's taken off Carlisle." His voice boomed over the phone. I was between patients at the small, ninety-eight bed Quileute hospital and I was having a very slow shift._

"_What do you mean, she's taken off?" I asked running my free hand through my hair._

"_Bella and I went to hunt," he began his explanation. "We left her trailing behind Abby; she was going to take Sarah out to the cliffs near Billy's. We weren't gone more than twenty minutes, but when we rejoined the trail and caught up to Abby . . . Sarah was gone." _

"_Have you any idea where she's off to?" I was making for the exit at a speed faster than I considered prudent in the company of humans, but I didn't seem to care._

"_We back tracked and found the point where her scent left the main trail," Edward paused and my stomach tightened. "She's hunting Carlisle."_

_I relaxed a bit, it wasn't uncommon for shape-shifters to hunt in there shifted forms. "Deer or elk, most likely, thank God." I was now in the shelter of the forest beyond the parking lot of the hospital and moving with blinding speed._

"_She was hunting deer," he sighed. "Now she's on the trail of something else."_

"_Surely not a human," I was a little shocked as I'd never know a shape-shifter to stalk human prey._

"_No. I can still hear her thoughts," His voice was tight with worry and anguish. "She's hunting a vampire . . . Carlisle, it's her brother . . . she's hunting William, but she doesn't know who he is."_

"_Damn," I hissed. Seldom, if ever, did I allow myself the use of profanity, but the word slipped unchecked from my mouth. "Follow her, stop her if you can . . . I'm on my way."_

"I'm sorry Papa; I didn't mean to make you angry." She began honestly, her voice breaking the lingering silence. "I smelled an unknown vampire in our territory, doing the unspeakable to some poor human and I followed him. When I found out that the vamp was William, and I remembered what her did to Mama, something inside snapped . . . I let the lion have free reign in me. I know you taught me better, that you expect better out of me, but I didn't want to see him hurt any of _you_ again."

The words of Sarah's act of contrition brought me back to the present. While her words were most defiantly repentant, I was pleasantly surprised to find the trembling lamb no longer resided in my daughter's voice. It seemed the lion was here to stay. I was glad of her new found confidence; I only hoped I could teach her to use it more responsibly before it got her killed.

I looked at her, sitting there between Abby and Bella, and remembered other times that I'd had the unpleasant duty of reprimanding her. As I catalogued these and compared them to her present misadventure, I found in each one a uniting theme . . . _selfless love_. In every instance where she had defied me, where she had been _out of control,_ where she had blatantly sought out disaster, it was with the welfare of others in mind. Even now, her miscreant actions were in an attempt to defend all those whom she loved and held dear to her heart.

Would I have done any less?

At this realization, my rage lost much of its fire and my calm response congealed in the vastness of my mind. "I know that you are, indeed, sorry, Sarah," I kept my tone gentle yet stern as I didn't wish to come across to harshly, I had made that mistake with her once in the past and never wanted to repeat it. "And I do accept your apology; however, you must understand a few things."

I paused and took a much needed breath. "I know you meant well, your love and devotion to your family is exceptional in its intensity. I both appreciate and am humbled by the ferocity of your affection, far more than you'll ever know. That notwithstanding, it was extremely reckless of you to launch out on your own after a fully mature vampire like that . . . never mind the fact that the individual in question was William whom we all know to be highly dangerous.

"Make no mistake, I am very upset with you, in fact up until just moments ago I was outraged beyond words. Then I realized something very critical . . . had I been in your place, my actions would likely have been much the same as yours. I am by no means attempting to gloss over your very reckless acts, but," I paused as I sighed heavily. "The apple truly doesn't fall very far from the tree. The example that I have set before this family is one of selfless love, and I find that example mirrored back at me in your reasoning for confronting William."

I watched her expression closely as I had learned over the years that volumes of information could be gleaned from it. She seemed surprised, or perhaps she was confused as she likely expected me to explode, though I'd only truly done so once with her. She would never know how close I had come this evening to repeating that fiery yet sad exchange.

"You mean . . . _you get it_?" she asked with and odd sort of twist in her voice.

I maintained my previous tone in answer. "Yes, Sarah, I do indeed _get it._ But now there is something that you must get. This family, and I as a husband and patriarch, has been very fortunate thus far in that we have never been forced to endure the grief of tragic loss. That ghastly specter has not yet cast its unwelcome shadow across our doorstep . . . it has come close at times, but we have managed to eluded his visits. I do not wish to entertain the shadow of death in my home, Sarah, not now or ever. I simply don't think I could bear the grief of losing any one of my beloved family."

I allowed my speech to end there and watched her expression again. She was thoughtful as she considered my words and finally she nodded. I was satisfied that I had made the desired point and that she understood, so I dispensed with my somewhat somber tone and approached her. I always tried to end sessions like this, whenever possible, with some token of affection. To that end, I gently pulled her from the sofa and hugged her and to my delight she retuned my embrace. We held each other like that for a number of seconds before I released her.

*****

After dinner, I retired to my room to read the new sci-fi novel in brail that Edward bought for me. I was alone as Ben had an important business meeting in Port Angels and would likely be home late. My fingers ghosted over the lines of raised bumps on the page, translating them into words without much thought. It was a good book, I liked the story, but mind was elsewhere.

The events of the day still occupied my attention. I was thrilled to discover that I could still phase, that I was no longer helpless in the case of my own defense. The run through the forest had to be the most exhilarating experience I'd had since coming back from Peru. That boundless joy was tainted, however, by the events that surrounded my encounter with William. While I was very sorry my actions had hurt and angered Papa, I couldn't honestly say that I regretted them.

Even now, thoughts of the way William hurt my mother and of the callously way he offered me that poor man's body made rage swell in my heart. The tinder feelings I had entertained for him all those nights ago were utterly gone. I'd only had those sentimental feelings because of the memory of the innocent infant that laughed and babbled and made my mother smile. But those memories were now irrevocably overwritten by images of William bent over the lifeless body of that fisherman as he drained the last of his blood.

There was a soft knock at the door and then it opened, I knew it was Ben even before he spoke.

"You're up late, Milady." He purred happily. "You know, you didn't have to wait up for me."

"What time is it?" I'd completely lost track of time.

"One forty-five in the morning." He replied as I listened to him loosen and remove his tie. "You're usually in bed by eleven at the latest. Is something wrong . . . or is the book that enthralling?"

My stomach tightened as a wave of nervousness shot through me. Lately Ben and Papa spoke regularly as Papa tried to keep my mate abreast of all development in his research on my condition. I wondered how much, if anything, he'd told Ben about my phasing and my misadventure.

"Sweetling," Ben called softly. He sounded a little worried; I must have looked upset so I smiled at him.

"The book is ok; I was more occupied with my thoughts."

"Care to share them?" He asked brightly as he climbed into the bed beside me.

Ben braced his back against the massive headboard and I instantly snuggled in beside him. My smile became a grin as he wrapped his strong arm around my shoulders and drew me in tighter, planting a kiss on my head as he did. No matter how chaotic the world around me became, I always found perfect peace wrapped securely in Benjamin's arms.

"Didn't Papa tell you?" I asked from my snuggled haven against his side, I wanted to know how much he already knew before I started.

"I haven't spoken to your father today as I was very busy." He answered as his hand found my upper arm and he began stroking it lightly. "Beloved," he continued, "If something is upsetting you, I would appreciate it if you would tell me."

"Promises you won't get angry?"

Benjamin's warm laughter filled the room and he hugged me a little tighter. "Little Love, you know that I cannot make that particular promises to you as my mood will depend upon what you tell me, but what I _can_ promises is that I won't yell or lose my temper and that no matter what . . . I will always love you."

It was astounding how much better his simple reassurance coupled with my closeness to him made me feel. I borrowed in a little deeper and rested my head against his shoulder, in response he kissed the top of my head again and then rested his cheek there.

"I had a long talk with Papa today" I began slowly. "About how vulnerable and helpless I've felt since becoming human again, but especially since William's attack because I don't have my gifts." I paused but he didn't dismiss my feelings or comment in any way, so I went on. "He listened very attentively to what I had to say. When I finished, I thought he was going to pat me on the head and send me on my way, but he didn't."

"What did he do instead?" Ben asked encouragingly, the lawyer in him was trying to draw me more quickly to the point.

"Well, he had this theory," I was getting edgy now, because my husband had never been wholly comfortable with the shape-shifter aspect of my persona. "My mental gifts don't work because of the meds he has me taking and he absolutely refuses to take me off of them."

"Thank God for that," Ben whispered into my hair. "Go on."

"He suggested that perhaps I might try summoning my other gift," I paused and swallowed hard. "You know the one that makes me all fur and fangs."

"Ah yes," he sighed. "Your shape-shifting ability, I hadn't considered that . . . were you successful?"

His tone surprised me; it was pleasant with a note of genuine curiosity in it. "Well, yes, I was actually, after a bit of initial difficulty . . . I had to find the proper strong emotion to get the ball rolling." I sat up a little from him and turned so that I faced him. "I thought you didn't like my shape-shifting, you always give me that _look_ when I phase."

I heard him chuckle as he pulled me back fully into me place against his side before wrapping the cocoon of his arm around me once more. " In all honesty, I've never been completely comfortable with your unique gift, but I wouldn't go so far as to say I disliked it. As to the 'look' that I give you, remember that shape-shifters and vampires are mortal enemies my sweet . . . the emotions behind the look are those of awe and wonder with a hint of confusion thrown in for good measure."

"Then you're not angry that I can still phase?"

"Of course not," He dismissed with yet another chastened kiss. "Were you afraid that I would be?"

"Actually, yes," I murmured. "But I more afraid of what you'll think when you hear the rest of it."

"What's the rest of it then, sweetling?"

"Well, I've been cooped up here for two months, the drive you took me on the other night was the only time I've been away from the place, and I kind of wanted to get out and run a bit while I was still phased." I paused and chewed my lip as I considered what I would say next. "Papa said yes, reluctantly. Edward, Bella, and Abby in her wolf form went with me. It was so much fun Ben; I haven't felt so free or enjoyed myself so much since before the incident in Peru."

"Outstanding, my love, perhaps that's something we can do together sometime, if you like?" he encouraged me happily. "But there's more to your tale isn't there, please continue."

"While we were out I got sort of separated from the rest of the group, the lion in me wanted to hunt." All in all, Ben was taking my story very well, but this would likely be the part that would cheese him off and I was hesitant. "I started out stalking some deer, until I smelled another vampire . . . in our territory . . . hunting a human. It made me angry and I went after him. _He_ turned out to be William and if Papa and the others hadn't stopped me . . . I would have killed him."

The last of my words died away and the room was silent. Ben's hand continued to gently creases my arm, but he said nothing. The clock on our dresser ticked away the minuets as my sense of dread deepened. Finally Ben took a deep breath and I knew from experience he was about to speak.

"I can tell, by the amount of tension I feel in you, that you're waiting for the furry my wrath . . . don't bother, it's a fruitless wait." He whispered into my hair. "I'm glad your shape-shifting still works and I'm glad that it makes you feel empowered. I love you more than life or blood my beloved and I hope you don't take the wrongly, but I swear before all the Saints, I was beginning to grow quite weary of the mousy Sarah . . . I much prefer the lion as I like you much better when there is fire within you."

"But I confronted William." I insisted in case he missed that fact the first time.

"Indeed." He laughed. "I'm only sad I wasn't there to see it! I am quite sure you were magnificent. But tell me Milady, do you know precisely _how_ tokill a vampire?"

I shook my head as it lay against his chest. "On our way back from Louisiana, Papa had a fight with a couple of vamps that tried to hurt Esme. I remember he tore them to bits and we hauled the remains out to the country somewhere and Papa burned them."

"Hum, I can see now that your education has been seriously lacking," Ben hugged me again. "Do you, by chance, know how to fight?"

"Edward and the others taught me some moves in preparation for that game of Quileute tag with Jacob, when Abby was born." I still fondly remembered my triumph in the ring that day and the thought made me smiled.

"I sound beginning to be sure, but it's not nearly enough." He sighed. "It seems the Crimson Paladin has his work cut out for him."

I was stunned, "Do you mean that you intend to teach me to . . . fight?"

"To fight, to defend yourself, and to kill if necessary," Ben commented in a matter of fact way. "Yes, that is precisely what I propose to do. Starting tomorrow morning after breakfast, I should think. I'll suggest you phase and we'll go for a run. I think we'll enlist Edward and Bella's aid in this endeavor and that of the delightful Abby as well.

"Yes, it quite settled" he purred as he pulled me in closer and kissed my forehead. "My lovely wife, my mouse of a wife, no longer a mouse shall be. And when foul William next comes around, what a surprise he'll see. For tooth and claw, and Lion's law shall be the end of he."

* * *

_I know, our dear Benjamin is no Shakespeare, but Sarah absolutely adored his little poem. Love is blind, deaf and dumb sometimes. And yes, I seem to be stuck on Jungle Book quotes this week, but with Sarah's phasing they just seem to feel right._


	14. Chapter 14

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters

_Guys, I actually posted 13 on friday night, but the notice only just showed up in my email inbox. How wierd is that!_

Chapter 14

**As Swift as the Coursing Rive**

* * *

風　_Swift as the wind_  
林　_Quiet as the forest  
_火　_Conquer like the fire_  
山　_Steady as the mountain_

_It is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you will not be imperiled in a hundred battles; if you do not know your enemies but do know yourself, you will win one and lose one; if you do not know your enemies nor yourself, you will be imperiled in every single battle._

_**The Art of War**_

_Sun Tzu_

* * *

I finished my shower and stepped into my bedroom to get dressed for the day. I'd spent much of the night in my lab running test on the new blood samples I'd taken from Sarah in her lion form. My mind was buzzing with the most unusual results, though I wasn't quite sure what to make of them just yet and I wouldn't share them with the rest of the family until I'd sorted it all out.

Edward would know of course, but he tended to keep quiet about things he gleaned from our minds. Like a priest hearing secrets in the confessional, he had sequestered his comments under a self imposed vow of silence . . . unless of course, he felt the information was of drastic importance.

I stood in front of the mirror and put on my shirt, a pale blue oxford, one of Esme's favorite colors on me. I had it neatly buttoned in a flash as well as the collar straigh and proper. Perhaps I would share my findings with my mate at least, she would love to hear about it and she was exceptional at keeping anything I told her in strict confidence . . . no matter how excited it might make her.

And this would most defiantly make her excited; good god, the implications of it had me excited . . . though I would need another sample of her human blood this morning to ensure there were no nasty side effects.

It seemed that phasing put the parasite in Sarah's system into a state of dormancy. While in lion form, the creatures simply floated in her blood doing absolutely nothing, as if in suspended animation. When I isolated some of them and returned them in a sample of her human blood they woke right back up and started swimming happily with the rest of them.

It was an interesting discovery, I thought as I descended the stairs to join the rest of the family in the kitchen, and I couldn't wait to see what application might be made of it.

In the kitchen I found Bella and Edward by the kitchen sink, Bella was busily washing up some of the dishes dirtied in the process of making breakfast while her mate kept her company. We had a dishwasher, but old human habits often persisted in her. Bart, Sarah, and Ben were at the table already and Esme was just serving the last of their plates to her daughter and grandson.

I took my seat, finding my morning paper laid neatly on the place mat and waiting for me. I was in no rush this morning as my shift wouldn't start until seven this evening. Baring some catastrophic emergency which would cause the hospital to call me in, I was free to spend the day with my family.

"Good morning, all," I hummed as I picked up the paper and began my leisurely perusal of the front page. One by one they returned my greeting; Esme's even came with a hug from behind and a kiss to the top of my head.

"Has anyone heard from Alice and Jasper?" I asked turning the page. Emmett and Rose left earlier that morning; I knew that they were going to spend the next two days hunting in the Olympia range. The rest of us would get our turn in pairs when they got back. Alice and Jasper were still in Canada at the cabin, they'd been there for two weeks now and I was anxious for their return.

"She called me this morning." Bella answered. "She said you'd ask. They'll be home Friday. . . Jazz is feeling much better."

"Excellent, I look forward to having the family united again." Though my children took sabbaticals from the family unit from time to time, I hated it when they were away and I always looked forward to their return. "What do you all have planned for the day?"

"I was going to bounce over to Seth and Leah's house, Leah's going to make some of her supper killer BBQ." Bart answered before anyone else could speak. I knew of course he had an ulterior motive, hoping that Abby would come over too.

"That sounds delightful, what about the rest of you?"

"Well, now that you mentioned it," Ben was next. "Sarah told me last night that she really enjoyed the drive I took her on a few days back. I was thinking of taking her on a leisurely jaunt along the coastal highway."

"Outstanding," I was happy Benjamin was getting Sarah out of the house. In her confession yesterday I could tell her confinement was getting to her. "I hope the two of you have a good time. I'll give you her midday medication, make sure that she eats and takes it. Do you intend to be away over night?" If so I would need to send enough medicine to last until midday tomorrow.

"Oh no," he answered. "I'm due in court in the morning, so we'll be back by sundown."

I turned my expectant gaze to Bella and Edward next.

"Well," Edward began, "If Ben's got Sarah for the day, then I was thinking maybe Bella and I could spend part of the day at the cottage and be back some time this afternoon."

Suddenly the implications of all that I'd just heard became crystal clear in my mind . . . Esme and I would have the whole house _to ourselves_. We hadn't been alone together in the house in, well . . . ages. I couldn't help my mischievous smile as my gaze met hers, and I could tell she was thinking exactly the same things I was thinking.

"Ugh . . . _TMI_, could you tone it down a bit Carlisle," Edward groaned. "Save your lustful thought for after I'm out of range."

If I were capable of blushing, I would have. Esme and I tried to keep the primal notes of our passion out of our thoughts as much as possible, but sometimes . . . like now, it was a losing battle.

"Ok, that's it . . . that last image I could have lived without _forever._" He shook his head in disgust and grabbed Bella by the hand. "Sarah, Ben . . . have a great time on your outing. Bart, enjoy the BBQ. We're out of here."

After breakfast, I managed to get two test tubes of blood out my very squeamish daughter before the house emptied out faster than a fire station to a five alarm blaze. I smiled once again as I watched Ben's Jaguar pull out of the yard. Bart was already gone; he'd used his teleportation power to 'bounce' to Seth and Leah's. I closed the door and strolled casually into the Great Room where I found Esme tending _Sarah's Fire. _Ever since I confessed to her why I kept the hearth burning all the time, she became the unofficial keeper of the flame, like the Vestal Virgins at the temple of Vesta.

"Did someone call for a doctor?" I asked playfully allowing my licentious intentions to be evident in both my voice and my expression.

"Why, yes," Esme took up with matching intentions dancing in her features. She stood and set aside the poker as she continued. "I did. I'm afraid there's something frightfully wrong with me."

"Is that a fact," I crossed the room in a flash and had her in my arms. "When did I perform your last physical my dear?"

"Quite a number of weeks ago Doctor, but you were in a terrible rush." She twined her arms around my neck and smiled innocently.

"Is that so," I replied thoughtfully as I scooped her into my arms and started for the stairs. "Well obviously, do to my carelessness and hast, I must have missed something in my previous exam. I'm afraid I'm going to have to do the whole thing over again."

"What a pity," she sighed and we both burst into raucous laughter.

******

We drove away from the reservation heading south. Ben told me, once we were a couple of miles away from the house, that the _going for a drive_ scenario was Edward's idea. According to my brother, it would draw less attention from our folks. I felt the car slow and then turn and I must have looked confused because Ben giggled.

"We're going to the baseball meadow," he informed me quietly as we continued at a slower pace down a rut filled dumpy road. To my recollection, the baseball meadow was only accessible by foot of four wheel drive.

"You can't drive the Jaguar all the way to the meadow."

"I'm aware of that, my love," he chuckled as he brought the car to a stop and cut the engine. "I believe I promise you a run this morning."

Soon Benjamin and I were coursing through the forest side by side. Before I phased, he assured me he'd packed extra close in the trunk last night. Again it was my brother's idea; I wasn't entirely sure who was in charge of our little clandestine adventure any more . . . Ben or Edward.

When we arrived at the meadow, Edward, Bella, and lupine Abby were waiting for us.

"Did you make the phone call?" Ben asked Edward.

"Yes, they're intrigued at the prospect and are on they're way." My brother answered with his usual grin framing his mouth.

They who, I wondered with a grunt and then I heard Edward laugh, "You'll see," he answered.

"In the mean time, I like to get things started with a review of yesterday's events." Ben's authoritative voice filled the meadow. It was the commanding tone of the knight's training master addressing his squire; he was in full teaching mode. "Much can be learned from past battles."

"Well," Edward began. "As we broke from the forest, I saw Sarah deliver a vicious paw swipe to William's upper thigh. She got him really good, I could hear her claws dig into his flesh and it left him limping."

Ben nodded his approval. "That is a classic feline hunting teqnique," he sighed and then gestured towards Abby, "Wolves hunt in a pack, so when running down a fleeing vampire, one pack member initiates the take down by overpowering the vamp while the rest mob the enemy once it's on the ground. Destruction is swift and inevitable.

"Cats on the other hand, tend to hunt alone . . . which means they must be self-sufficient in all aspects of hunting. They must take down and incapacitate at the same time even while they prepare to deliver the killing blow . . . hence Sarah's inclination to begin her attack by going for her prey's legs."

I never really thought about it before, the things I did when hunting just came naturally to me, as if I'd been born doing them. Under Ben's careful scrutiny and explanation, however, it did make sense.

"What was her next move?" Ben asked my brother expectantly.

"She didn't get to make one, just as she was catching up to him again, Carlisle called her off." Edward answered.

My mate turned his bright dark honey eyes to me, the same question danced in their depths. In turn, I focused on my brother deliberately thinking my answer in a moderately loud tone. I remembered once he'd told me that my thoughts were quiet and difficult to hear.

Edward's crooked smile was back in full force as he answered for me. "Had she not been called off, she was planning to bit the top of his calf, just below the knee."

"An incapacitating blow that would have left your quarry immobile," Benjamin purred with delight, but then he frowned. "However, William would not have been as defenseless as you might think. Again, had you not been called off, what would your next move have been?"

A single image flashed through my mind, bright and vivid. Even now the anticipation of climatic event made me shudder.

"The throat," Edward answered uncomfortably. "She would have gone for his throat and the kill."

"And you would have been wrong . . . and likely dead." Ben sighed sadly.

I gave him a confused hurt look and grunted a little roar. That's how I'd always killed prey, why was it wrong now.

"She doesn't understand." Edward supplied for me.

"By nature, members of the cat family are strangulation killers," Ben was in teaching mode again. "The instinctually fatal bit to the throat takes away the prey's air supply. This works well with deer and elk my love, but with vampires it is futile, as we do not need to breath. Also, a frontal assault in this manor would have left you open and at the mercy of _his_ hands," Ben wrapped his own hands around his throat in demonstration. "While _we_ don't require oxygen, you do my beloved. He would have choked you to death or snapped your neck before you realized what was happening."

I dropped my gaze to the ground in shame, if Papa hadn't showed up in time to stop me I would be dead right now. _'I do not wish to entertain the shadow of death in my home,'_ Papa's words tumbled through my mind again and I now understood what he meant. Suddenly I saw his reprimand in a whole new light . . . I was in way over my head with an enemy I only thought I knew, even after having been a vampire for seven years.

"Stop you self recrimination," my mate scolded gently and I looked up to meet his warm gaze. "Mistakes are our best teachers, provided we survive long enough to learn from them. Next time, go for the kill here," he instructed as he clamped his hand around the back of his neck just below the base of the skull, instead of in the front around his throat. "And don't just bite down and hold, as your feline instinct will inevitable tell you to do; you must crush and sever the neck with your jaws, removing the head entirely from the body. Decapitation, dismemberment, and burning are the three steps to a vampire's destruction."

"She still feels bad," Edward provided, "like she should have known better. But she couldn't have . . . all the darker aspects of our existence that she should have learned about as a newborn, Carlisle sheltered her from. He sees her as different somehow, it's difficult to explain. "

Ben only nodded at this and then turned his focus back to me. "No matter how much training a Knight has, regardless of how much he practices his art, there are two things with will turn the tide of battle either for or against him.

"The first is a brutally honest knowledge of self. A warrior must be acutely aware of his own strengths and weakness, his skills and his deficits. In this way he can better manipulate the battles situation to accentuate his advantages and minimize or even eliminate his disadvantages.

"The other thing he must know is his enemy. He must know those he wishes to engage with the intense intimacy of a lover. Their habits, strength, weaknesses, abilities, numbers, all these and more must be on cusp of his mind at all times. With these two strands of knowledge intertwined, the field and the day will always be yours."

Just as he was finishing his lecture, three vampires came rushing out of the forest. While I recognized Zafrina and her sisters on sight, they didn't recognize me. Like well oiled machines, all three of them dropped into defensive crouches as the sight of me. In response I lay down, rested my head on my paws and tried to look as submissive as possible.

"It's alright Zafrina," Edward called out. "It's just Sarah; she's a shape-shifter like Jacob and the others."

After several tense seconds the Amazon and her sisters straightened and began a cautious approach. I remained completely motionless in the grass fearing any sudden moves might illicit a frightened attack. When they stopped about ten feet from me I slowly sat up.

"That's the biggest damn cat I've ever seen." Zafrina hissed. "She's even bigger than some of the wolves."

I turned and looked briefly at Edward and mewed softly. Every instinct in me wanted to greet the new members of our little group in my usual feline way, but out of fear of reprisal I was holding back.

My brother snickered, "She wants to approach you and greet you, but she afraid."

"She's afraid!" Zafrina chuckled loudly. "Tell me, what on earth could a cat that size possibly be afraid of." Then the leader of the Amazon coven stepped forward slightly and held out her hand. "Come jungle sister; let Zafrina get a better look at you."

I resisted the urge to bound forward, instead I approached slowly with my head up, ears forward, and tail up with a slight 'question mark' curve at the end. To further communicate my friendliness, I allowed a deep rumbling purr to resonate from my chest.

Delight lit Zafrina's face as she took my ear in her hand and began scratching it and the volume of my purr increased. "What an amazing thing, she's so friendly . . . not at all what I expected when I first saw her. Come sisters, come and meet Carlisle's cat. Now I understand why he calls her _Kitten_, I used to wonder, but now it makes perfect sense."

After an extended petting session that left me feeling languid and ready for a nap, Zafrina addressed Edward again. "Is this what your call was all about, you wanted us to see you sister's amazing gift?"

"Actually no," Ben cut in. "We need your help teaching Sarah to defend herself against enemy vampires. The more experience she has against different individuals, the better prepared she'll be when next she faces William."

"Of course, we were getting board with sitting around your father's old house." Zafrina answered with a purr of her won. "The exercise will do us good."

"Excellent," Ben pronounced as he waved me back to his side. "Lesson one; what to do when confronting a defending enemy vampire . . . head on"


	15. Chapter 15

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or it's characters!!

Chapter 15

**With all the Force of a Great Typhoon**

* * *

_Speed is the essence of war. Take advantage of the enemy's unpreparedness; travel by unexpected routes and strike him where he has taken no precautions._

_Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat._

_**The Art of War**_

_Sun Tzu_

* * *

I walked the halls of Wolf's Creek Community Hospital, on the way from the ER to my secluded office. _My Hospital_, the words danced through the corridors of my mind and I felt a smile curl my lips. In nearly four hundred years of medical practice, I had never thought to aspire to such grandeur as being fully in charge of my own hospital. Always I'd been more that contented to do my small part for humanity, saving one life at a time, as I remained safely huddled in the background.

My ethos hadn't changed, I practices medicine the same way I always had, but the scope of my responsibilities had defiantly changed. From the moment of the little hospital's conception, my family and I had been involved. Esme, working closely with the tribal elders, drew up all the blueprints and conceptual art. Benjamin took care of any and all legal issues before, during, and after the construction. Jasper and Emmett oversaw the General Contracting firm hired by the tribe to do the actual building. And as for me, well every great orchestra needs a great conductor and that was my duty . . . I made sure everything blended together in seamless harmony.

But of course, the real work didn't begin for me until later. Once the front doors opened, I was on call twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. I was Chief of Staff, Chief of Surgery, Chief of Medicine, Chief Attending Physician . . . _Chief of Everything_ and in spite of my immortality the pace and daunting schedule ran me ragged. So when Billy approached me four months after the hospital opened to ask me about taking on a young Quileute shape-shifter and doctor fresh out of his training years, I was skeptical about his experience, but at the same time I was desperate for his aid. After an initial interview, I accepted the young doctor and welcomed him to my small crew. I soon found that Michael Raven was both capable in his skills and amiable in his demeanor. He was truly a god send, and I was thankful for him daily.

"Hey, Carlisle," the voice calling out to me belonged to the same man I'd just been thinking about. I turned around to find Dr. Raven jogging up the hall towards me. I scowled at him and he slowed his pace to a fast walk. Running in the halls was dangerous and I only tolerated it in the case of dire emergencies.

"I'm glad I caught you, I have those results you wanted." He handed me a set of papers as he came to stand before me. I glanced down at the file and noticed my daughter's name on the tab.

"That was fast, I wasn't expecting these until sometime next week." I commented before I could sensor myself. I'd given Michael some samples of Sarah's phased and post-phased blood for analysis. I was sure, given his work load and the fact that this little project was strictly extracurricular, the tests would take longer to complete.

"Yeah, well," Michael smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Uhm, I kind of had help, do you remember me mentioning Cynthia?"

"Yes, Dr. Cynthia Moon," I replied, still confused as to what he was getting at and why he looked so guilty, he reminded me of a child who was just caught stealing cookies. "I remember her; Billy told me that she should finish her residency sometime in January. I'm considering bringing her on board afterwards, we could certainly use another set of hands around here."

Michael continued to behave strangely as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, and I was wondering if he might not be feeling well. I was about to say something when he spoke up again.

"Well, she managed to wrangle some time off. She's in town visiting her folks. I told her about my 'project' and she kind of agreed to help. She's _really_ pretty, Carlisle, and super nice . . . you should meet her."

"Dear God," I moaned. Now I recalled where I had seen that goofy grin Michael was wearing before. "You've imprinted on Cynthia, haven't you?"

His gaze instantly dropped to the floor and he nodded. After my initial shock wore off I patted his shoulder affectionately. "Congratulations, Michael, I can't think of anyone who deserved to find his mate more than you."

"Thanks," He whispered and then looked up at me. "So, you're not angry . . . because I was afraid you would be after she told me you were thinking of hiring her."

Everyone at the hospital was well aware of my policies regarding fraternizing at the work place. Obviously he was concerned for Cynthia's future. "I'm sure we can work something out." I encouraged him gently.

With that, he smiled and dismissed himself to return to the ER and I entered the quiet solitude of my office. I'd just finished reviewing the report Michael gave me when the phone on my desk rang. Without a thought I answered it. "Dr. Cullen," I spoke into the phone, trying to sound polite yet professional.

"Well, hello _doctor_," the thick voice on the other end of the line sneered. "It's not every day that someone as famous as you answers his own phone."

I recognized the voice; I would never forget the sound of the fiend who hurt my Esme. "You've got some nerve, calling me after what you did to my mate! What do you want William?"

I heard him laugh and was about to hang up when another fainter sound filtered through the phone line. I recognized the female voice that whimpered in the background and I snarled rather loudly . . . it was Esme, and if he'd hurt her in any way . . .

"Temper, temper," William chided me, cutting off my angry thoughts. "You know, it's truly amazing who you meet at the grocery store these days. I was strolling up the frozen foods aisle, and who should I see there, but your beautiful mate, trying to decide between crinkle cut or shoe string French fries. I just had to insist she join me for a little drive in the country."

"What have you done with my wife you sniveling cur, if you've harmed her . . ."

"Calm yourself, there's no need to get testy, she's my guest doctor, why would I harm her?" He dismissed me. "Now if you don't do exactly as I instruct you . . . well, I'm afraid I can't make any promises."

I was literally trembling with rage now, if I could have reached through the phone and throttled him, I would have. "What do you want?" I hissed through gritted teeth.

"Are you familiar with the abandoned fish cannery west of Port Angeles?"

Who wasn't, when the tuna fish processing plant closed down five years ago, over one hundred and fifty people lost their livelihoods? "Yes, I know it." I answered curtly.

"Good, you're going to meet us there in an hour." He snickered. "And by the way, come _alone_ . . . If I hear so much as a howl, smell one of those disgusting dogs, or since the presence of any other vampire but you . . . I'll kill your beautiful mate, rip her to bit, and burn her . . . understand?"

"I understand." I sighed.

"Don't come Carlisle, please don't come . . ." I heard Esme shout desperately from somewhere in the back ground.

"See you in an hour." William laughed wickedly before hanging up.

I put down the phone and for several seconds I just sat there. Finally my brain kicked into gear and a pulled a couple of sheets of stationary from my desk drawer. Five minutes later I was sealing my final instructions to Edward in a manila envelop with his name on the front . . . this I would leave here in my office for him to find. He, Ben, and I had once discussed this sad eventuality, everything required for the transfer of my estate and assets was in a safe deposit box at a bank in Seattle.

I left the hospital via a quite back door and faded into the thick green forest beyond the edge of the parking lot. Moments later I was running at top speed towards my date with destiny.

"Listen to me Alice," I muttered under my breath as I ran. "If you're seeing this, you and the others mustn't try to play the hero. If you all show up, he'll kill Esme. Alone, I might have a chance to catch him off guard and save us all. Please, make sure everyone stays away . . . and remember . . . I love all of you very, very much."

My words were as much a desperait warrning as they were a sad good-by.

******

Jasper and I sat across from each other in the living room, a chess board between us. He and Alice arrived back at home late the previous night; I woke that morning to them in the house. I'd missed them desperately and was glad to have them back. I was disappointed though, that Bella and Edward were gone, rotating out with Emmett and Rose for their turn at an extended hunting trip.

Mama left about two hours ago to do some much need grocery shopping. With Bart and me, and sometimes Abby eating human food, stocks had to be replenished. So Jazz and Alice were thrown fully into the duty of babysitting me. Even now, Alice was in the kitchen fixing me a sandwich for lunch . . . she refused to actually cook without Mama present.

"I've got you, darlin," Jazz cooed smugly. "There isn't a move left to you, so you might as well concede defeat."

My hand ghosted over the chess board, noting the locations of every piece on the board. It was harder to play chess with Jazz as a human; my mind wasn't nearly as sharp.

"I could do this," I moved my bishop and took his knight.

He laughed, "I like this new determination and inner fire that you've been showing lately Sis . . . it's more like the old you." It seemed everyone felt this way I thought as I listened to my brother make his move. "My queen takes your bishop." He purred. "I hate to be the one to throw water on your fire, but in about three more moves you'll be in check mate, two if you're careless."

"Papa lets me win." I snapped, mocking indignation and doing a poor job of it.

"I'm not Papa." He corrected with a snicker.

"And I'm not Mama," Alice announced as she entered the Great Room, "So I hope ham on whole wheat is . . . "

Her words trailed off and I heard the plate containing my lunch clatter to the floor. Power sizzled in the air and I instantly knew Alice was having a vision. Jasper was out of his seat and across the room in a flash; I felt my heart racing in my chest as I waited for Alice to tell us what she saw.

"Oh God, no. . . No, no, no," she murmured and I listened as Jasper tried to sooth her distress.

"Alice," I called softly when I couldn't handle the anxiety any more.

"William's got Esme . . . he's holding her captive." Alice began, but before she could get further Jasper had his phone out, already dialing the number to call for aid. "NO, you can't." my sister slapped the phone from her mate's hand and I listened as it slid across the hardwood floor. "He's already contacted Carlisle and told him to come alone to the old cannery; if any of us show up to help . . . he'll instantly kill Esme."

"So, Carlisle fights him and wins?" Jasper asked nervously.

"No." She replied quietly, her voice low and sad. "It ends the same in every possible scenario I play through my mind, Carlisle and Esme both dead at Williams hands."

A mixture of rage and pain welled up inside me and I wanted to scream even as my inner lion roared his eternal frustration inside my mind.

"There is one possible hope," Alice muttered. "One scenario that has a duplicity of endings, one that William won't be expecting." She took me by the shoulders, giving them a brief squeeze. "Ben hasn't had time to show you everything about fighting vampires that you really ought to know, but then again, William doesn't know the first thing about fighting lions either." She squeezed my shoulder again, "You need to phase quickly and high tail it over to the cannery, there isn't much time so you'll need to run faster than ever.

"Alice," Jazz sounded desperately confused. "That's over sixty miles away, she can't run all the way there, and then be expected to fight. She's not a vampire anymore . . . she has limits now, very mortal limits."

"She can do it." Alice insisted. "Go out on the back porch and phase," she instructed me. "Jazz and I will join you in a moment. We'll run with you as far as it's safe for us to go and then give you direction to get you the rest of the way there."

Five minutes later Alice, Jasper, and I were coursing through the forest at top speed. They were charging along full out, not damping there pace for me at all, but I found I was able to keep up.

"Shape-shifters _can_ run at vampire speed," Alice explained over her shoulder. "That's how the wolves are able to run us down. However I'm not sure how long this speed will be sustainable for you given your mortal nature. Hopefully you can go the distance; it shouldn't take long to reach the cannery at this pace."

"I'm more worried about her having something left over at the end," Jasper commented gravely. "William won't be and easy opponent. Hell, the rest of us and the wolves haven't been able to so much as touch him. I've never seen the like before."

"You worry too much, she'll do fine . . . I can see it." Alice answered him cheerfully as we all slowed to a stop. "This is as far as we can safely go and not tip William off."

"Look at me." Jasper insisted and I turned my gaze to him. He pointed out through the trees as he gently positioned my body. "Keep going in that direction, make sure you keep the sun here." He patted my left shoulder lightly. "Run until you can't smell anything but rotten tuna fish, that's the cannery and when that smell is so strong it makes you want to gag, you'll know you close. You can't miss it; it's an enormous rusty factory. Find Carlisle's scent when you're inside and you should be able to track him." Then he paused and knelt before me, looking me squarely in the eyes. "Good luck and Godspeed little sister . . . try to remember everything we've taught you, and . . . bring Mama and Papa home alive." There was deep emotion in his voice as he spoke and then he hugged me fiercely.

"Jazz," At the sound of Alice calling his name, he let me go and stood up.

I gave them one last look before bounding off in the direction Jasper had indicated. The forest whizzed past me in a green blur as I pushed my body to the edge of its endurance. I broke from the tree line above a busy highway, without thought for the consequences; I rocketed down the embankment toward the ribbon of asphalt and the rush of traffic.

Nimbly I leapt over an oncoming SUV, causing the startled driver to blast his horn and swerve slightly in a futile attempt to miss me, but I paid it no heed. I landed in the far lane of traffic and only jumped out of the way seconds before an oncoming semi was due to plough into me. The truck driver leaned on his air horn in panicked frustration and I heard his air brakes squeal even as I raced up the opposite embankment and disappeared once more into the sheltering forest.

On I charged past trees and through under brush. I felt my body begin to protest the frantic pace. My heart was pounding like a machine gun inside my chest and my lungs burned in their effort to capture enough oxygen for my straining muscles. The lion within me roared his encouragement and I pushed the pain and discomfort aside and pressed on. Finally the smell of rotten tuna fish accosted my sensitive nose, and I knew I was close. I put on and extra burst of speed to close the last few miles. Soon I found myself being forced to skittering to an abrupt stop as a twelve foot high chain link and barbed wire fence loomed before me.


	16. Chapter 16

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!!

_Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!!_

Chapter 16

**With all the Strength of a Raging Fire**

* * *

"_Ye choose and ye do not choose! What talk is this of choosing? By the bull that I killed, am I to stand nosing into your dog's den for my fair dues? It is I, Shere Khan, who speak!"_

_The tiger's roar filled the cave with thunder. Mother Wolf shook herself clear of the cubs and sprang forward, her eyes, like two green moons in the darkness, facing the blazing eyes of Shere Khan._

"_And it is I, Raksha [The Demon], who answers. The man's cub is mine, Lungri–mine to me! He shall not be killed. He shall live to run with the Pack and to hunt with the Pack; and in the end, look you, hunter of little naked cubs–frog-eater– fish-killer–he shall hunt thee! Now get hence, or by the Sambhur that I killed (I eat no starved cattle), back thou goest to thy mother, burned beast of the jungle, lamer than ever thou camest into the world! Go!"_

_**The Jungle Book**_

_Rudyard Kipling_

* * *

I entered the abandoned cannery with caution, a deep sense of foreboding heavy upon my spirit. I stopped in the doorway and took one last look at the blue-grey Washington sky; it would likely be the last I'd ever see of it. The faces of my family marched through my mind in somber procession, each one bearing a smile or grin. It was how I wanted to remember them, _happy_.

Williams scent was easy enough to find and, with a sigh, I began to follow it. Destiny awaited me. If fortune smiled upon me I might manage to rescue Esme before my adversary destroyed me. I held little hope of escaping from this myself.

I made my way slowly through the rusting maze of skeletal factory equipment. It was like a mammoth grave yard littered with various steel dinosaur bones. The ambiance did little for my mood.

Suddenly I recalled the time seven years ago when I face the Volturi alone, seeking to ensure the safety of my family. My destruction was inevitable; I was only awaiting Aro's pleasure in the matter. But then, _they_ came to my rescue . . . Esme and my daughters. The five beautiful, strong, Cullen women swooped in like the Valkyries of Norse ledged that day, bringing with them an army of epic measure to secure my freedom. I smiled briefly as I remembered how proud I was in that heady moment, looking into each shining face and knowing, for the first time, the true depth to which I was loved.

There would be no army today, I mused sadly as I plodded deeper into the bowels of Beelzebub's layer, no last minute rescue this time . . . only a hard fight and a bitter end.

"Welcome Carlisle." William's voice boomed with an eerie quality through the factory. It seemed to come from everywhere at once as it echoed off the surfaces around me.

I didn't answer him as I didn't have the will to hear the misery in my own voice. I also didn't wish my mate, if she yet lived, to her the sad resignation in any answer I might give and become afraid. So I continued to walk, following the scent of William.

Eventually, in the course of my descent into hell, I rounded a corner and came face to face with the demon that held my mate. He'd taken over a large open space near the rear of the factory, and had set up his innermost circle of Hades here.

"Carlisle," Esme's panicked voice drew my attention and I scanned the room finding her held captive in some sort of contraption. Her eyes met mine and we both sigh, resigned to our respective fates.

"Do you like it, it's my original design." William hummed as he stood gesturing at the 'cell' holding my mate. "Iron bars can't hold us neither can walls of stone and mortar, but this . . . this will keep one of our kind imprisoned indefinitely. The walls and roof are made of pure light . . . laser light, which should it come in to contact with our skin," he paused and inserted a broom handle into the curtain of light that formed the nearest wall. It began first smolder a bit and then to smoke before erupting in angry orange flames. "I'm sure you get the picture."

Indeed I did, she wasn't getting out of her confinement with causing her own destruction. "I'm here William, cut the theatric and tell me what you want." I demanded trying to sound as commanding as possible.

"What I want is nothing short of revenge, doctor." He chuckled as he extinguished the broomstick in a nearby bucket. "You and your little family of deer blood drinking freaks killed the only father I ever knew . . . I intend to make you pay." His tone was casual as if I would simple agree and surrender to my fate like a lamb to the slaughter. "Once I'm done with you, I'll give your mate a choice . . . take me as her new mate or die and be burned along with you. After that, it's on to the rest of your pathetic family, one at a time until I've eradicated your foul stench from the world for good . . . except for Sarah of course. She and I have other things to do."

Sarah, I thought, that was what he really wanted . . . his prize. "And you think she'll welcome you with open arms after you've murdered us all . . . _her family_."

He chuckled softly as a cold smile spread across her face. "You think I'm unaware that this will be difficult for her. You think that I've neglected to consider the fact that my actions might well make her hate me." He dismissed these points with a casual wave of his hand. "I'll tell her the truth of course, about what really happened to our birth family, I'll explain how my vengeance upon you all was completely justified after you murdered Cane, and then I'll take her to Constantine." He sneered at me then, "She'll make a lovely vampire, too bad you won't get to see it."

I said nothing in response; I just stood there staring at William as I awaited my fate. My lack of words seemed to irritate him to no end and he leapt towards me. I didn't flinch as he snarled in my face and loomed menacingly over me.

"Have you nothing to say," he bellowed. "I am the manifestation of your doom; beg before me that I might show you mercy in your final moments."

I suddenly remembered a quote that Billy Black was fond of reciting to me and I smiled as I uttered it on a soft breath, "Beware of the man that does not speak, and the dog that does not bark," then I added slyly, "One or both could end up as your undoing."

White hot rage turn William's eyes into fiery onyx orbs as he lunged for me and I knew those words would likely be my final ones. To them I added mentally for my own encouragement another of Billy's quotes, _'Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.'_

******

I stood outside the fence starring up at the barrier before me. The half rusty sign still clearly read _'Danger, High Voltage'_ in bold letters, and my predatory hearing could distinctly make out the high pitched hum of the current flowing through it. After the long run to get here my legs felt like spaghetti, but I had to get inside, I had to find Mama and Papa. I sniffed the air and found my father's scent already strong here. A loud roar fought to escape my mouth but I held it back, _'the element of surprise, once lost, can never be regained,'_ I remembered Ben telling me and so I kept silent.

I jogged back up the trail a little ways, took a running start, and launched myself up and over the fence. I landed with a heavy thud in the gravel on the other side, picked myself up, and trotted after Papa's scent.

The interior of the factory was creepier than the horror movies Emmett was so fond of. Rusted and disused equipment lay everywhere in disarray and the shadows cast by them promised doom at every turn. And the smell, Jasper was right about it, the putrid stench of rotting fish was strong enough to make an elephant gag.

"_What I want is nothing short of revenge, doctor."_ The disembodied voice of William echoed through the maze of mangled junk, causing my ears to strain in an effort to pinpoint the exact location.

"_Once I'm done with you, I'll give your mate a choice . . . take me as her new mate or die and be burned along with you. After that, it's on to the rest of your pathetic family . . ."_ these were the next words I heard as I searched for the source of the voice. They enraged me to the point of biting my tongue to stifle my roar. The lion within me begged for release as my mind churned over a single line of thought, '_No one hurts Sarah's family . . . no one takes from Sarah . . . no one is ever taking anything or anyone from Sarah ever again!' _It became my mantra, the battle cry of my soul.

The next sound to accost my ears made me think of a train wreck punctuated by snarls and growls. I knew the battle had begun, William had attacked my father.

My rage was sheer perfection as the lion within me took complete control. My eyes shot up and I noticed a catwalk running above the bank of machinery. A low quiet growl rumbled in my throat as I made three neat jumps, finally landing with easy on the narrow walkway. From my new vantage point I could see Papa, Mama and William in the far corner. I stalked forward on quick silent paws. By the time I was in position to strike, William had Papa pined . . . ready to snap his head from his shoulders and end his life.

The word echoed as _NO_ in my mind but came out of my mouth as the mother of all roars. Both my father and William looked up in time to see tawny colored death sailing through the air moments before I collided with William.

******

The struggle was brief; William was far stronger than I had anticipated. I knew, of course, he could over power me quite easily, as his diet of human blood gave him more strength. It was only one of the many sacrifices we made to live as vegans. Still I'd hoped that I could somehow out smart him, but that hadn't worked out. Now he had me in an inescapable hold, and was about to wrench my head off. My only regret was Esme, already she whimpered softly as she knew what was coming.

ROOOAAAR!!!!

The sound that erupted to fill every square inch of the factory with its deafening rage made me shudder with fear. I managed a glance up as the now startled William had relaxed his hold a little. Fiery amber eyes met mine briefly as Sarah launched herself from the catwalk above the derelict machinery. She sailed across the gap separating us with effortless grace and then slammed into William with the force of a wrecking ball.

My enemy was ripped from my back and I heard them land together on the concrete floor behind me with earth shaking force. When I turned to look, lion and vampire were still rolling with the momentum of Sarah's pounce. My mind scrambled for what to do next, until a desperate whisper drew my attention.

"Carlisle," Esme's voice was insistent and I turned to her. I could do nothing with the raging battle before me, if I interfered; Sarah might accidently ravage me instead of William.

I pried my morbid fascination away from Sarah and William's epic struggle and forced it to the task of freeing my mate. Soon I found the power supply to her prison, and ripped the cables loose from the rest of the unit. The wall of light flickered a few times before going dead completely. My beloved through herself into my arms and we embraced fiercely.

Another roar rocked the building and caused windows to rattle and some of them to brake, Esme and I turned in unison. We found William and Sarah facing off circling each other like a pair of boxers. William bore the evidence of Sarah's vicious claws, however, Sarah looked unharmed . . . That is, until she took another step, then I noticed her slight limp. She was favoring her left hind leg.

"Stop them Carlisle, Sarah's hurt." My wife begged.

"What do you suggest I do my love, turn the water hose on them?" This was a real 'life or death' fight after all, not a sparring match in the back yard.

_A sparing match_, those faithful words echoed in my mind and made my stomach tighten with dread. It dawned on me in that moment, that my Sarah had no idea what she was doing. I'd never bothered to teach her to fight vampires, and she most certainly had no idea how to kill one.

I watched in horror as William, noticing Sarah injury, stood up out of his defensive crouch in preparation to strike. Before either he or I could act, however, Sarah coiled on her haunches and leapt at her advisory. The injury was a fake, a ploy to draw William out and now she had him. And she couldn't have been in a more un-advantageous position . . . or so I perceived.

She wrapped her huge forelegs around the trunk of William's body, pinning his arms against his sides. Her viscous claws anchored themselves in William's back. The force of her forward momentum caused them to the tumbled together. As they fell Sarah clamped her lethal jaws around her brother's neck, biting down enough to cause his stony flesh to crack under the assault of her teeth, but not enough to sever his head from his shoulders.

They twisted together as they fell, landing on their sides on the cold concrete entangled like two strange lovers. Sarah brought her hind feet up between them and began to rake savagely at William's lower body, from his abdomen to his thighs. Kick after vicious kick sent a constant rain for rock hard William chunks flying across the room, until finally his entire lower half was wrested from his body and sent careening to the far wall.

Only after ripping him in half did Sarah deliver the killing blow. Her jaws came together with a tribal force, snapping William's neck from his shoulders with frightening ease. The chill of her actions became real to me then, this was no mere coincidence, it was very deliberate. Sarah had with held delivering a merciful kill in favor of making William suffer. She forced him to endure the agony of being ripped in half before finally ending his life . . . payback for her mother's assault I surmised.

I was disgusted by my daughter's callousness, but at the same time how could I blame her. As her father, her teacher, and the leader of our family I should have taught her better; instead I had completely neglected this aspect of her education. Without knowledge of any better behavior, she had simply done what came naturally to her . . . giving herself over and letting the lion have free reign.

"Sarah," I called to her as I took several slow steps towards her. She still held Williams torso in her grasp and was currently gnawing on one of his shoulders, like a dog with an old bone.

She looked up at me, seeming not to recognize me at all. Her ears flattened back and she snarled viciously at me, causing me to stop my advance and jump backwards in retreat. Her gaze continued to rest on me, wild furry danced in their amber eyes; her whole body displayed the signs of a threatening feline warning off an unwelcomed approach.

"I've lost her, she doesn't even recognize me," I mumbled as she roared at me again. Jacob once told me that it was possible for a shape-shifter to give themselves over so completely to their animal persona that they lost all contact with their humanity. Those individuals were usually hunted down by the Pack and put out of their misery.

I was lost in a cloudy sea of troubled thoughts, wondering if I had the fortitude to put my beloved Sarah down, when suddenly my mates voice jarred me lose form my musings. She had steped several paces past me and was now kneeling before Sarah, some eight feet away from her.

"Come Kitten," Esme called softly, "It's all over now . . . come back to us."

Sarah let go of William's shoulder long enough to look at her mother. The wild furry evaporated from her amber eyes as they locked with those of her mother. Rage was replaced with confusion. She let out a soft grunted roar, a friendly sound used to communicate, _not_ to threaten.

"Yes Sarah," I added my own encouragement, "We love you, please come back to us."

She released the remains of the mangled torso and stood slowly; surveying the carnage she was laying amid. Her expression changed, there was an absent quality to it that soon became one of fear and confusion. She looked up at me then, and I realized that my daughter hadn't been in control of her faculties during her vicious assault. It also came to my attention that she likely feared my wrath, I needed to reassure her.

"It' alright honey, you did what . . ."

"You saved us," Esme cut me off. "You saved our lives, Isn't that right, Carlisle?" My mate cast me a sideways glance that compelled me to agree.

"Yes, that's right," I stammered. "I was done for, William had me. If you hadn't showed up when you did, well . . . your mother and I would likely both be dead by now."

She approached us then, rubbing her huge head first against Esme's body and then against mine. We stroked her affectionately and murmured word of love to her, letting her know that everything was alright. The sound of thrashing on the floor broke the spell, and I look down to find a thrashing William arm seeking to locate the rest of its body.

"I hate to break this up," I sighed, "But we need to clean up this mess."


	17. Chapter 17

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!!!!

Chapter 17

**Mysterious as the Dark Side of the Moon**

* * *

_"There is no one in the jungle that knows that I, Bagheera, carry that mark–the mark of the collar; and yet, Little Brother, I was born among men, and it was among men that my mother died–in the cages of the king's palace at Oodeypore. It was because of this that I paid the price for thee at the Council when thou wast a little naked cub. Yes, I too was born among men. I had never seen the jungle. They fed me behind bars from an iron pan till one night I felt that I was Bagheera–the Panther– and no man's plaything, and I broke the silly lock with one blow of my paw and came away. And because I had learned the ways of men, I became more terrible in the jungle than Shere Khan. Is it not so?"_

_"Yes," said Mowgli, "all the jungle fear Bagheera–all except Mowgli."_

_"Oh, thou art a man's cub," said the Black Panther very tenderly. "And even as I returned to my jungle, so thou must go back to men at last–to the men who are thy brothers–if thou art not killed in the Council."_

**_The Jungle Book_**

_Rudyard Kipling_

* * *

I surveyed the mess Sarah had made; scattered chunks of what had once been William were everywhere. With a sigh I began collecting the remains into a pile for burning. Esme found a push broom with which to sweep up the smaller bits. From behind me, I heard my daughter's soft grunted roar and I turned to see what the matter was. She presented me with her brother's severed head to add to the pile; a clear indication she wanted to help.

"Alright then," I smiled down at her and gave her ear a scratch as I took the head from her. "Why don't you look around and see what kindling you can find. Anything that will readily burn; scraps of wood, old cardboard boxes, disused shipping pallets, even rags will do."

With a nod of understanding, Sarah bounded off to search the factory for kindling. I had no doubt she would find something suitable. As I went back to the task at hand, my mind randomly turned itself to my ongoing research; this wasn't unusually, it was my minds way of idling. As a species, we were quite unique; while our physical bodies might be busy with the mundane things required for life, the vastness of the vampire brain could easily contemplate multiple lines of thought at once.

I looked down at the fist sized chunk of William that I was about to pick up and add to the growing pile, but instead of pitching it with the rest of him . . . I quietly slipped the chunk into my pocket. Perhaps in spite of his tragic life and violent death, some good could come from his short and sad existence.

As Sarah's only surviving biological brother, they would share a considerable amount genetic material carried over from their human lives. Furthermore, Cane had been Sarah's creator; William and Cane shared the same creator, namely Constantine. It occurred to me, as I felt the weight of the chunk settle into the bottom of my pocket, that comparing Sarah's venom samples with genetic material from William might prove enlightening on a multiplicity of levels.

I was lost in these thoughts when the sound of wood scraping against concert and softly padding paws made me look up. Sarah was wrestling with a shipping pallet as she dragged it towards me. I smiled as I watched her trying to manipulate the awkward object.

Esme cleared her throat rather loudly and when I glanced in her direction, I found her glaring at me. With a sigh I took several steps toward Sarah.

"Here, let me help you with that, Kitten," I insisted as I took the pallet from her. "This is perfect, exactly what I need." I added for extra encouragement.

Soon the clean up was complete and the pile was ready for burning. Esme managed to rummage around and locate a full gallon of industrial solvent; the can was labeled _'Highly_ _Flammable'_. It would serve as the perfect accelerant; I mused as I doused the pile and then poured the last of it along the floor in a trail leading away from the pyre.

"You and Sarah stand well back," I warned my mate as I reached into my pants pocket for the matches I always carried. My encyclopedic knowledge of chemistry told me that this particular compound was quite volatile and had explosive potential. While Esme and I might survive something unfortunate, Sarah would most defiantly not.

I lit a single match and watched it flare between my fingers before dropping it into the solvent puddle on the floor in front of me. The match touched off the liquid trail making a soft whooshing sound as the flames traveled back along its length to the waiting pile. I watched with satisfaction as the whole thing went up in an anger orange fire ball. Soon, billowing clouds of purple smoke began to rise above the flames and fill the space among the rafters of the factory.

Sarah's soft mewing and my mate's insistent call drew my focus from the writhing inferno. I turned to find Sarah lying on the floor breathing hard and Esme kneeling over her. Instantly I was at their sides and kneeling as well. Sarah hadn't appeared hurt after her encounter with William, but internal injuries weren't as easy for me to detect without examination.

"Something's wrong." Esme insisted with concern.

"Yes, but unfortunately she cannot aid me in determining what the problem might be," I whispered as I began gently palpating her abdomen, checking for any signs of internal injury or bleeding. When I found nothing, I continued my physical examination of her as my hands ghosted lightly over the rest of her body. "I can't find anything," I groaned in frustration.

The factory was now beginning to fill with thick smoke as the building itself became involved in the fire. In the distance I could hear the wailing sirens of the fire trucks that would arrive in the next twenty minutes or so. Suddenly I was at a loss, obviously something was amiss with my daughter but we needed to get out of the area in a hurry. Before I could say anything, however, Sarah managed to stager to her feet.

"Let's get out of here," I murmured as I eyed my daughter skeptically. "We'll keep a pace that's comfortable for Sarah."

******

I followed behind Mama and Papa as they led the way out of the burning factory. My legs felt as though they were made of rubber and they burned with every stride I made. I couldn't quite catch my breath even though I continued to run and my heart was pounding out a wild rhythm in my chest. More than ever before I wished for my mental gifts so that I could tell Papa exactly what was wrong with me.

When my parents came to the twelve foot high chain link fence at the edge of the factory property, they jumped it without breaking stride. I, however, slid to a very ungraceful halt that very nearly ended with me slamming face first into the electric fence. I let out a soft roar and watched as my parents, now half way the shelter of the tree line, turned back to look for me. They immediately came back to the fence.

"Back up and get a running start," Mama encouraged gently, her sweet smile almost made me believe I could do it, but I knew better. I grunted and shook my head. Even with a running start, I didn't have the strength to clear the fence and the deadly crown of barbed wire at the top of it.

"She can't," Papa sighed, "She doesn't have the strength; she's on the verge of exhaustion, that's what's wrong with her."

I grunted again as I looked at my parents through the steel curtain that separated us. Suddenly I could empathize with the animals at the pound, cut off from the world waiting for doom to come and claim them.

"Well," Papa smiled warmly at me and my spirits lifted a bit, "If my little girl can't jump the fence, then I suppose I'll just have to make a door for her." He stepped forward and reached for the fence, "Stand back, Kitten."

Sparks flew as my father ripped a hole in the chain link big enough to drive a tractor trailer through. The barrier was nothing to his inhuman strength, giving way as if it were made of tissue paper. He beckoned me through with a wave of his hand and a warm chuckle. Soon I was bounding after them as we raced towards the trees and the forest beyond. A head of me, my parents were carrying on a hushed conversation, the tone of which seemed serious.

". . . Sixty mile run might be too much . . ." my father's grave voice drifted back to my ears.

". . . Seems to be doing fine at the moment . . ." Mother's voice sounded more positive in answer to him.

The further they got ahead of me the less I could make out. Every stride was a monumental effort now and my legs felt as if they were made of lead, but at least the burning was gone . . . instead they had gone numb, I couldn't even fell the earth beneath my paws. As I continued on, my lungs heaved to take in enough air and I thought my heart would surely burst if it kept pounding at its present furious rate. I was dizzy too, and an ever darkening ring began closing in around the edges of my vision.

Suddenly, everything went black as my legs gave way beneath me. I barely felt the impact as my body slammed into the fern covered forest floor just moments before unconsciousness took me into her welcoming arms.

******

I kept my ears focused on Sarah, who was running as best she could, behind us. Her pace had been steadily slowing as she struggled to keep up with our slow jog. I had a very bad feeling about our current situation and when I heard the crashing thud behind us, my dead heart leapt into my throat. Esme and I stopped in unison and turned to find Sarah sprawled in the soft green ferns.

We raced back to where she lay, finding her unconscious. Her sides were heaving in an effort to get enough air and I could hear the rapid thrum of her overtaxed heart. I fine sheen of moisture darkened her dun colored coat, making it appear a shade of deep brown. As I knelt beside her, I reached into the pocket of the lab coat I was still wearing and fished out the smelling salts I usually kept there.

"Will she be alright?" Esme asked as I passed the open vile of strong smelling ammonium carbonate under Sarah's nose. To my great relief, she began to stir almost instantly.

I nodded; thought I knew my countenance was grim "She can't go any further, my love, her body has been pushed beyond the limits of its endurance . . . she's physically spent."

"But we have miles to go before we reach home . . . we can't just leave her here," my mate protested.

"Of course not," I had no intention of leaving my brave daughter behind. Especially, after she'd given such a valiant effort and save both our lives, "That's not the Cullen way." I replied as I lifted Sarah's head so I could look into her eyes, her pupils were wide and her gaze was unfocused.

She was only semi-lucid and in desperate need of rest, but in spite of this she grunted softly and struggled to get up. I restrained her gently, pressing her back into the soft green ferns. "None of that now," I whispered soothingly. "You've already done quite enough for one day, young lady." Then I turned to Esme, "give me a hand," I murmured. Moments later, with my mate's help, I had Sarah draped across my shoulders _'Tarzan'_ style, and we were racing through the forest once more.

Our progress was halted again when we reached the top of the embankment overlooking the highway. We remained in the shadowy shelter of the trees as we watched the traffic hurtling by below us. I focused my hearing listening for any coming break in the flow of vehicles that would allow us to cross unnoticed. The sky above us was no longer shrouded in a blanket of thick grey clouds; the sun was peeking through to show itself every so often. It wouldn't do for us to be inadvertently seen.

I smiled as the familiar sound of a particular vehicle came to my ears and I watched with fascination as the rusty blue and white Ford F150 pulled off onto the shoulder below us. Alice rolled down the passenger's side window of Jacob's old truck and wave at us. Jasper, cloaked in a dark green hoodie and wearing sunglasses crouched like a giant turtle in the bed of the truck. The driver's side door groaned in protest as Jacob opened it and stepped out. When the traffic was clear, my grandson-in-law motioned for us to come down from our hiding place.

"Alice called; she thought you guys might need a lift . . ." Jacob informed me with a grin, but his jovial attitude evaporated when he caught sight of Sarah. "God, Carlisle, what the hell happened . . . Little Sister is in a really bad way?"

Because Billy called Sarah, _'Little Sister'_, everyone else in the tribe now called her that too . . . sometimes in the Quileute tongue, but more often in English. It was intended as a mark of respect. I found it truly amazing how readily they accepted a fellow shape-shifter, even one that had once been a vampire as well.

"Sarah fought and killed William." I replied plainly. Later when we weren't so exposed I'd fill him in on the details.

"Put her in the back and hop in," Jacob insisted as he gestured towards the bed of the truck. "Esme, you can ride in front with Alice and me. We need to get Sarah home . . . fast!"

I climbed into the back of the truck and Jasper helped me to settle his sister on a pallet of old blankets, then he handed me extra hoodie and sunglasses. Within minutes I was huddled next to my son as we sped towards the house.

As we pulled into the yard, I took note of the cars already parked there as well as the scents that filled the air. Benjamin's dark grey Jaguar was parked furthest from the house; next to it I spied Edward's silver Volvo. Ben was supposed to be in Seattle for the next two days with a court case, my guess was he spoke with the judge and got things put on hold. Edward and Bella were to spend several days on an extended hunting trip; they'd left around four this morning. My son must have broken the land speed record for the internal combustion engine in order to get back home so quickly . . . not to mention every speed limit in the state of Washington.

I took a deep breath as Jacob's truck came to a halt in front of the porch. Not only were all my children here, but so were Bart, Abby, Nessie, and Billy. I also detected the wild jungle scent of Zafrina and her sister's. A full house to give Sarah a hero's welcome, unfortunately she was in no position to appreciate it.

"Let's get her inside," I whispered to Jasper. Together we used the blanket under her for a stretcher, I took one end and he took the other.

In the Great Room, someone had thoughtfully arranged more blankets on the floor in front of the fireplace to make a soft warm bed for Sarah. Jasper and I gently deposited her here. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Rose smiling with satisfaction. I would have to thank her for her kindness later.

"Wow, Little Sister is in awful shape," Billy muttered as he rolled his power chair closer. "You were right to call me, Jake, I don't recall ever see a shape-shifter this exhausted before." He regarded Jacob seriously.

"What do I need to do?" I knew when I was out of my league and I deferred to the elder's wisdom.

"What would you do for a human patient coming into your ER suffering from extreme exhaustion?"

"Admit her to the floor, IV fluids, bed rest until the fatigue subsides, and a nutritious diet." I rattled off my standard course of treatment without a second thought.

"Same thing here," Billy replied. "Except for the diet part . . . that's going to prove a little tricky. She needs meat and lots of it."

"I believe we have some stakes in the freezer." Esme offered hopefully.

Billy shook his head, "She's going to need a lot more than just a few puny T-bones. I'm talking serious meat; look at her . . . how much does Little Sister weigh?"

"Nine hundred and eighty pounds, give or take," I answered softly as I watched Edward disappear towards the basement stairs. I'd silently asked him to bring me an IV kit and a bag of fluid from the medical closet in my lab.

"That's a lot of cat," Billy grunted. "And she's going to need a lot of fresh meat in order to regain her strength."

It made sense actually. According to my reading on the subject, a full grown male African lion averaging between 330 and 550 pounds consumes around fifteen and a half pounds of meat daily. Sarah was close to double this size and by my calculations she should therefore consume roughly twenty eight pounds of meat a day . . . considerably more than a few puny T-bones.

"Are you saying I need to hunt for her?" Benjamin inquired, concern for his mate echoed in his deep baritone voice. Edward had returned now with the supplies I'd requested. I continued to listen as I busied myself with starting Sarah's IV.

"Well, yes eventually," Billy answered thoughtfully. "But what she currently needs in order to help bolster her strength is liver; as you know wolves and other large carnivorous predators eat the viscera of their prey first . . . the liver makes up the largest and most nutritious part of these organs."

"Deer have livers." Ben stated plainly.

"Yes, but the diet I'm suggesting for the next several days should consist of liver exclusively." Billy retorted. "That many deer taken each day would seriously impact the local population . . . and ultimately your own food supply."

"So, you're saying that Sarah needs lots of livers," Emmett jumped in. Ordinarily he was quiet during these sorts of serious discussions; the sound of his voice almost startled me. "Well then, I know where to get her lots of livers . . . nice juicy fresh ones. Come on Jasper lets go for a ride," he grabbed his car keys from the peg by the front door. "We'll be back in an hour."


	18. Chapter 18

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!

_This chapter is dedicated to my husband's little niece Sarah who was born Dec 31, 2009 and died Jan 3, 2010. Your life was sadly short and the light of your presence will be missed, may God keep you always and in His loving arms._

_Please keep my brother-in-law and his wife in your thoughts and prayers. This was to be their first child and mom is still quite ill and in the hospital as she suffered from preclampsia._

* * *

Chapter 18

**Debt**

* * *

_A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave._

_Mohandas K. Gandhi_

* * *

I sat on the sofa beside my mate, my arm wrapped securely around her shoulders as she snuggled against my side. The grandfather clock in the foyer had just chimed the hour; three AM. All the lights were off down stairs, the Great Room was bathed in the warm glow cast by the fire in the hearth and the tranquil flickering of a number of candles that Esme had lit. The radiance of the full, early autumn, moon cascaded through the bank of floor to ceiling windows behind us washing the room in its pale bluish light.

Ordinarily I would have found the setting very romantic and it might even have inspired me to make certain amorous advances towards Esme, but tonight my world was on edge. When the house full of guest departed and things finally settled down, the magnitude of the day's narrowly averted tragedy sank like a millstone into my soul. It left me feeling nauseous with the scope of their gravity. In nearly four hundred years of existence, I had never come so close to my own destruction as I had been just a few short hours earlier. A heart beat, a hair's breadth, an infinitesimally microscopic fraction of a second was all the separated me from oblivion . . . but worse, it was only a slightly more generous fraction of time that stood between my mate and _her_ utter inhalation.

The reality of it all had me unnerved and I wanted nothing more than to lock all those that I loved away in an impenetrable vault for all time. If I could but find some way to keep them indefinitely and absolutely safe, as the thought of loosing even one of them was abhorrent and unacceptable to me.

"_I wish you'd tell my aunt that, sometimes I think she'd like to shut me away in a shoe box forever, just for safe keeping."_

I remembered Sarah's words from over seven years ago as if she'd only just spoken them. As always, deep wisdom could be found in the simplest of her utterances. While I might wish to shut them all away for safe keeping, the actual doing of it would be both cruel and unfair . . . my role was that of patriarch not jailer, protector not warden.

My mind turned then, back to my Sarah. She had still been human when she'd spoken so wisely, with no idea of what we were nor did she have any inkling that the world of vampires and shape-shifters even existed. Young, blind and incredibly innocent . . . and yet ever trusting of me and my family, a group she'd only just met. She was completely enamored of us from the beginning and we, in turn, were taken with her. She became our 'pet human', a frail little thing in need of our constant attention. At the time, I would have been contented to look after and care for until the end of her natural life. But how much more she had become to us over the years; fully joining our family to become a sibling to my children, a daughter to Esme and me, and integral part of our lives that I could not imagine being without.

Today she had garnered a new place in my heart, that of hero. I wasn't a man who bestowed grand titles on those around me, nor would I make an unnecessary fuss over what my daughter had done on our behalf. Still, in my heart of hearts, I knew that had it not been for Sarah both I and my mate would be nothing more than so much silver ashes dancing on a twist of wind. I owed her our very existence . . . not only mine and Esme's but that of my entire family. My little girl paid a debt that she didn't owe and now I owed her a debt that I knew I could never fully repay.

As if on cue, Sarah grunted in her sleep and stirred restlessly on her pallet of blankets in front of the fireplace. I would have preferred it if she were able to phase back to human form, but according to Billy this was impossible until she regained her strength.

"Carlisle," Esme looked up into my face and I could see the depth of worry in her golden eyes.

"She's only dreaming." I assured my mate.

"Are you sure," She insisted. "Perhaps we should try to coax her into eating more of the livers; Billy said it would do her good."

I smiled and pulled Esme more fully into my embrace, kissing her forehead lightly in an effort to easy away her fears.

Yes, Billy had insisted on an exclusive diet of liver for Sarah and I deferred to his expertise on the matter. To that end Emmett and Jasper took off earlier in the day, returning an hour later with four, twenty five gallon white plastic buckets.

"We've got Sarah's livers," Em announced proudly as he and his brother entered the foyer, each carrying two bucket, "Nice, fresh, and juicy just like I promised . . . and some of them might still be a little warm."

"Emmett," Esme glared at our grizzly of a son and, for a moment, I thought she might even wag her finger at him. "You haven't been up to anything . . . _reckless _have you?"

"Relax Esme," Jasper soothed, "Em and I went out to the slaughter house. We gave some guy a couple of hundreds and he let us have all the fresh beef livers we wanted . . . no questions asked."

"That's perfect; I hadn't even considered going there." Billy grunted. "Jake, show them how to prepare the liver for Little Sister."

A few minutes later I was kneeling on the floor next to Sarah with a tennis ball sized chunk of warm bloody liver in my hand. Esme set a whole stainless steel mixing bowl full of it beside me.

"Come on now Kitten," I coaxed softly as I offered her the morsel. I hoped she found the scent of domesticated cattle more appealing than I did. Though we drank animal blood, the life essence of farm animals had the least appealing smell to us, ranking only slightly above that of household pets.

I watched as she turned her head away from the food I offered her. Discouraged, I looked to Billy for advice.

"Keep trying," he encouraged gently. "She's still a little out of it. Once you get her going thought, I promise you, she'll devour everything in that bowl and then lick it clean."

I continued to coax and cajole until, joy of joys, she started to lick at the liver in my hand before finally taking the chunk from me. To my surprise she practically swallowed it whole. I was about to reach for another hunk when Billy stopped me.

"Just put the bowl under her nose, and let instincts do the rest" He chuckled. "That is unless you like the idea of being the world's only one handed vampire surgeon."

That thought defiantly did not appeal to me and so I took the elder's advice. And I was glad that I did, Sarah consumed the contents of the bowl with voracious zeal.

"Carlisle," Esme whispered urgently drawing me from my remembrances. "What do you think, should we feed her again?"

I shook my head as I continued to hold my mate. "It's just a few hours until dawn, let's wait and give her a nice hearty breakfast."

******

I woke feeling disoriented, muzzy headed, and week, but by the scents that swirled in the air around me, I could tell that I was at home. My head rested on a rock hard pillow that I soon recognized as my husband's thigh. I turned my head and looked up into his face; a warm smile curled his lips and spread to his light amber eyes.

"Good morning Milady," he greeted me in his usual cheerful way. "I trust you're feeling better."

I gave him a slight nod in answer. I was feeling a little better, but I still didn't have the strength let alone the will to get up. Ben's hand found my ear and he scratched it lazily. I was purring loudly by the time my ears caught the sound of footsteps entering the Great Room from the kitchen. I opened my eyes to find Mama and Papa coming my way. My father had a huge metal bowl in his hands, the smell of fresh meat wafting off the bowl made my stomach growl.

"That's a good sign," my father chuckled; the happy sound of his laughter was soothing to me. I was afraid he might be angry after the events of the previous day; I had committed my first murder after all.

Papa bent down and set the bowl on the floor in front of me before flashing me his most charming smile. Bella often spoke of Edward's dazzling gaze that left her distracted and unable to think straight. Ben had a way of disarming my most potent rages with his antiquated yet romantic way of speaking; turning the simplest of soothing assurances into a Shakespearian sonnet. With my father it was his smile, it held the most unnatural powers . . . my mother swore that Papa could charm the stripes right off a tiger with it. And he used it too, shamelessly, not just on his human patients to sooth and comfort them, but on his family as well for the same purpose.

"There we are," he cajoled, nudging the bowl in my direction "a nice hearty breakfast to speed your recovery."

Everyone's gaze was fixed on me and I felt suddenly nervous. I wanted to find a deep shadowy corner somewhere and hid in it. I realized that it was a cat thing, felines hated being stared at. In an effort to dispel the odd sensation, I turned my attention to my breakfast. I sniffed at the contents of the bowl, and while I was hungry, the bright red beef livers held no appeal to me . . . in fact, I was disgusted by them. I pushed the bowl away with my nose and laid my head down on my paws.

"Oh, not again," Papa moaned. I'd only lost my appetite once before, back in Italy after I nearly killed one of the thugs that held Bart captive. "Sarah, you must eat to regain your strength. Billy highly recommended this course of treatment . . . at least try."

"Come on Sis," Emmett pleaded. For someone as big and tough looking as my brother, in that moment he reminded me of a little boy with a sick puppy to look after. "It's only for a couple of days, then you can have anything you want . . . well, almost anything. I'll even go hunting for you, what do you want ol' Em to bring you back?"

I couldn't help but smile my unusual feline smile as a low purr rumbled in my throat. A single image filled my mind, and I could almost smell my favorite prey. My mouth watered just thinking about it; though in truth neither Papa nor Ben let me hunt them very often . . . they were quite large and rather rare in these parts anyway.

"You're not serious," Edward grunted. "Of all things, why on earth would you want _that_ . . . they're even more unappealing than deer or elk?"

Maybe to him but not to me, I found them delectable.

"What does she want?" Emmett insisted, "A grizzly, an elk, something more exotic maybe . . . Oh, I know a wildebeest from the zoo. Just tell me . . . it's not a problem you know."

"None of the above," Edward paused as he shook his head and sighed. "She wants a moose."

Emmett looked at me seriously then, though I could see the hint of amusement in his eyes. "Sis, if you eat your livers and get stronger, by the bear that nearly killed me, I swear . . . I'll bring you the biggest bull moose I can find anywhere between here and Alaska."

I continued to eye my brother for several more seconds before I nodded, sealing our agreement.

"Hey Em," Jasper taunted playfully, "Are you sure you can take down a full grown bull moose, I hear their pretty tough customers. You have to be careful of their heads . . . you know, the end with the enormous antlers."

"Oh, Ha, ha," Emmett fired back, "very funny Jazz. I seem to recall you had a bit of trouble with the last grizz you tackled . . . had you been human, it would have ruined that pretty boy face of yours."

Jasper was about to say something in reply, but Papa ended the exchange. "Alright boys, that's quite enough."

When I turned my attention back to my father, I found him stuffing a chunk of the squishy liver with my morning pills. When he offered it to me I grunted softly and turned my head away. I hated my medicine and I didn't understand why I needed it, especially if I was going to be in phased form for a while. My resistance and questioning expression was met, not with Papa's charming smile that could make tigers give up their stripes, but rather with Dr. Cullen's steadfastly professional glare.

"These are the same pills that you've taken every morning, without complaint, since you returned from Peru." He informed me sternly. "I expect your continued compliance, as it is for your benefit that I administer your medication."

My resistance melted under the relentlessness of his gaze. I gingerly took the medicine stuffed liver chunk from his hand, chewed it twice, and then swallowed it. His expression instantly softened and his warm smile returned. He patted my head and praised me before pushing the bowl back within my reach.

I closed my eye, imagined the beef liver to be fresh moose meat, and consumed my meal.


	19. Chapter 19

**Note:** I do not own or hev rights to Twilight or its characters!!!!!

Chapter 19

**Scarlet 'M'**

* * *

_"It is to the credit of human nature, that, except where its selfishness is brought into play, it loves more readily than it hates. Hatred, by a gradual and quiet process, will even be transformed to love, unless the change be impeded by a continually new irritation of the original feeling of hostility."_

_  
__**- **__**The Scarlet Letter**__,_

_Nathaniel Hawthorn_

* * *

I had gotten off my shift at the hospital over four hours ago, but I'd only been home for the past hour. I often spoke of complications to my patients, but my own life had recently become very complicated . . . even more so then usual. On the one hand there was Sarah, still in the midst of her ongoing issues, and on the other there was Billy.

More than two weeks had passed since my daughter's faithful encounter with William. It had taken four days of complete bed rest and Billy's special diet to get Sarah recuperated enough to where she could be ambulatory without assistance. Another four days passed before he and I concurred that Sarah was strong enough to attempt phasing back to human form.

The process was successful, of course, but the phasing zapped most of the energy that she'd worked so hard to store up. I was back to the beginning again with her, making her rest and seeing to it that she ate properly. On the bright side however, at least I was back within my own element, treating my daughter as human patient instead of one better left to the local veterinarian.

Currently, that was the only brighter side to things. While Sarah struggled to regain her strength at home, at the hospital I was now attending to Billy. He came into the ER two days ago in the troughs of a diabetic crisis. I was quite concerned for him; Michael and I were monitoring his condition very carefully. He had made some improvements over night, and if his positive progress continued, I would suggest moving him from ICU to a room on the floor in the next couple of days.

I sighed as I reclined in my desk chair, upon arrival at home I had retreated to the sanctuary of my upstairs office. I needed the solitude, so much information was spinning around inside my head that it would likely make a human dizzy. My spirit was troubled by the desperate events that had plagued my household recently and continued to darken my doorstep. I wasn't accustomed to feeling so helpless, with nearly four centuries worth of life experience surely I could distill some solution to the ongoing problems that surrounded me.

In an effort to distract myself, I picked up the lab results on the chunk of William that I had been testing. Before I could read them, however, my attention was redirected by the sound of something crashing to the ground, followed by breaking glass, and a faint cry . . . Sarah's cry. What now, I wondered as I made for the office door.

I found her, in of all places, on the stairs . . . halfway up. She was breathing hard; the exertion had obviously been too much for her and she was tired. My trained eye could easily read the likely course of events; she'd overtaxed herself and gotten dizzy, lost her balance, and knocked one of Esme's art pieces off the wall. The frame of the photograph lay in two halves on the stairs with a veritable mine field of glass shards all around it. Suddenly I felt my chest tightened as I realized Sarah was about to take a step forward. She had no idea of the danger that she was in, as she was bear footed.

"Don't move." I commanded in a tone louder than I intended. Instantly she froze and, as I approached, I noticed she was trembling.

"Papa," She muttered softly as her hand groped the air in front of her for my presence. I gently caught her wrist before pulling her into the safety of my arms.

"I'm here child," I soothed as I kicked away several of the larger shards of glass with the toe of my shoe. "What on earth are you doing up here, you shouldn't even be off the sofa without supervision?"

"I was looking for you." Her voice betrayed her exhaustion, but it still held an edge of determination.

"Kitten, you need only to call for me, you know I'll hear you." I was being mindful of my tone as I didn't wish to upset her. Sarah was the most emotionally sensitive member of my family. Whether mortal or immortal, she readily picked up on our moods and feeling if we allowed them to spill over into our voices. She reacted to these subtitle verbal cues all too easily.

"I know," she admitted, "but I wanted to find you . . . I've wanted to talk to you for days now."

"Is that so," I asked as I gently scooped her into my arms and carried her back down the stairs. "And so you felt the need to risk life and limb in order to speak to me. It's not as though you require an appointment to see me, sweetheart, if I'm not at the hospital . . . I'm here."

"But you've been very busy lately, with my illness . . . and now Elder is sick," She replied as I set her down on the sofa.

When she mentioned Billy, I watched a distinct frown curl her lips. She was obviously concerned about the man whom she always called _Elder_. Since their first meeting, a deep respect and affection had developed between the two of them. Edward told me that, in her thoughts, there was a strong connection between Billy and her Uncle Hezekiah.

"How is he, by the way," She asked as I pulled up the blanket and tucked her in. "Mama said it was serious, I wish I could go and visit him. Will he get well soon?"

I had to tread carefully here, I wanted to tell her the truth but I didn't wish to upset her and thus complicate her recovery. "His condition is quite serious, but he's doing much better now, perhaps in a few days he'll be out of ICU," I told her honestly. "As to whether he will get better or not . . . diabetes is incurable, Sarah. As a physician, I can help him manage his condition but I can't make him well."

"Oh, I know that," she whispered absently. "I knew a girl in high school who was diabetic, Lidia; she was one of my few friends. I just worry about Elder and I wish I could help him somehow."

"Is that why you tried venturing upstairs, to ask me about Billy?" I had a nagging suspicion that she had another motive, and I was shamelessly trying to change the subject by steering our conversation in that direction.

I noticed the almost imperceptible movement as she shook her head and then she began fidgeting with her hands. Whatever she wished to say to me had her nervous and I knew from past experience that it was unwise to rush her. If I wanted to hear this, Sarah needed time to gather herself . . . so I nudged the coffee table closer to the sofa and sat down.

"Papa, I . . . I killed someone," she stammered and I could clearly read the pain in her expression.

"Oh dear," I whispered under my breath. She was feeling guilty in spite of having saved us. Given her sensitive nature, I should have been expecting this reaction. In truth, I should have spoken to her sooner regarding her feelings in an effort to head this situation off.

"I know I let you down," she went on. "You've always taught me that there's a better way, a non-violent way . . . like Gandhi. You've always said that the choice was mine, and I messed up, I . . ."

"Sarah," I interrupted her gently. "You don't need to apologize."

******

"I know I let you down," I confessed. That glaring fact had troubled me for days now. Everyone was being very nice to me because I was sick; no one brought up the fact that I was now a killer. "You've always taught me that there's a better way, a non-violent way . . . like Gandhi. You've always said that the choice was mine, and I messed up, I . . ."

"Sarah," Papa's voice was low and soft, "You don't need to apologize."

I could hear the love resonating in his voice, but I knew my father well . . . he was being kind. Papa cared deeply for me and he didn't wish to upset me while I recovered but I knew that he must be very disappointed in me, because I was disappointed in myself.

"I killed him, Papa," I tried to sound insistent. I'd never taken a life before, human or vampire, and it was really bothering me. "I killed William, right there in front of you and Mama . . . I should have held myself in check, but he was about to kill you and the lion in me wasn't having any of it . . . it's ok, I'll understand if you're angry."

I heard him sigh loudly. _Here it comes_, I thought as I braced for my well deserved tongue lashing.

"I'm not angry, Kitten, nor am I disappointed with you." He whispered gently and then he sighed again. "But obviously _you _are finding this calamity very distressing . . . am I correct?"

I nodded, but said nothing because I didn't trust my voice not to break.

"I see," he took my hand lightly in his stony cold one as he came to sit beside me on the couch. I was used to the coldness, and it didn't bother me, but I knew he would release his hold shortly. "There are times in life where certain courses of action are utterly unavoidable. I know that I have taught you that there is always a choice, and this is true, but sometimes that choice is the difference between two evils." He paused briefly to gather his thoughts and then picked up again. "I owe you my deepest thanks, Sarah, you saved not only my life, but your mother's as well . . . and ultimately those of your siblings, mate, and son."

I nearly gasped, Papa had taken my guilt the wrong way . . . he thought that I regretted saving him and Mama. I was trying to apologize for letting him down by killing someone, and it was coming across as if I would have preferred to let him die. I bit my lip to keep from crying.

"Kitten," he prodded gently when my silence lasted too long.

"I love both you and Mama, very much, and I would do anything to protect you, I just wish. . ." My words trailed off into a long painful silence. What did I wish?

The memory of that bright eyed chubby cheeked little baby in the high chair blowing bubbles with his spit filled my mind. The sound of my mother's laughter followed next and the two memories merged together into a painful amalgam. I felt the sting of tears in my eyes as I finally spoke again. "Please don't think I'm disloyal, but I can't help but remember the William I once knew, the baby in the high chair, and wish that he would have listened to the truth. I wish you could have convinced him that Cane was the real bad guy. I wish he could have joined us, or at least coexisted in peace with us. I feel like I lost him twice, Papa . . . I feel guilty for having killed him . . . and I feel guilty for feeling guilty."

I was crying now, but not out of dark depression; rather it was a sense of profound loss. I wasn't grieving the monster who wished to hunt down my family and destroy them; I was grieving the innocent baby that I barely knew. All the lost holidays and the endless summers we could have spent fishing together, the un-ridden bicycles and un-caught fire flies. I was mourning the brother that Cane took away and poisoned, and that I could never have back. We had both been robbed, a fact that made me angry and hurt.

It was only when the worst of my tears subsided that I realized I was being cradled in Papa's strong arms while sitting in his lap. I didn't recall how I'd gotten there or his moving us to the huge rocking chair by the fireplace, but there we sat. As I continued to calm down, I listened to the soothing rhythm of my father's breathing, the crackling of the fire in the hearth, and the steady creak-creak of the rocker on the hardwood floor.

"Feeling better?" he asked softly. I suddenly found a handkerchief being pressed into my hand. Papa and Benjamin were the only two men that I knew who still regularly carried handkerchiefs. I giggled weakly at this thought as I nodded and wiped my eyes.

"May I speak without further upsetting you?" Papa asked calmly. Again I nodded. "First of all, I want to reiterate my early thanks. I realize that our salvation came at a great personal cost to you. Never once did it slip my attention that the person threatening us with inhalation was also your brother and that he meant something significant to you."

He paused and I knew he was judging my reaction so far. I nodded against his chest as I whispered a low thank you to him for his thoughtfulness.

"I do not _now_, nor have I _ever_ questioned your loyalty to this family," he continued when I remained silent. "Though I would never ask it of any of my children, you have proven both your loyalty and your devotion to us on numerous occasions. Wishing that your brother would have come to his senses and accepted the truth _is_ _not_ disloyal . . . it is a natural outgrowth of your affection, and it is very understandable."

"It doesn't bother you . . . that I wanted him to see reason," I was a little stunned, "That I would have liked to have had him as part of the family, even if it was a distant part?"

"Why should that bother me, Kitten," he asked lightly in response to me. "Had he accepted reason, I would have gladly welcomed him."

We both got quiet after that, lost in our respective thoughts until another question bubbled its way to my mouth.

"I guess I did what had to be done," I admitted solemnly, "Please don't think I regret saving you and Mama, but why do I feel so horribly guilty. It almost makes me sick to my stomach."

"You took a life, Sarah, and whether the existence that you ended was human or vampire, that's no small matter." His explanation was honest, but gentle . . . always gentle. "If you didn't feel at least a little guilty about it, I would be very concerned."

"Does it get better," I wanted to know if the sick feeling was going to be permanent.

"With time, yes, it does get better, your choice will become easier for you to live with," he stood up, with me still cradled in his arms, and carried me back to the couch. At first I frowned about this, until I realized why he was moving me . . . the coldness of his body against mine was making me shiver. "But, unfortunately, like the scar left behind on a newborn from our bite, the mark left on your heart and soul from the taking of a life will never fully disappears . . . it will be with you for all time."

He settled me back on the couch and tucked me in snuggly. "I feel like Hester Prynne only with a scarlet 'M' on me instead of an 'A', like the whole world will see me, know what I did, and look at me differently for it." I was thinking out loud, and Papa seemed to sense this as he patted my head and whispered soothingly to me. Then another question occurred to me. "Do you see me differently?"

"You're a silly little thing sometimes, Kitten, did you know that?" he bent and kissed the crown of my head as he spoke his casual dismissal. "I see you as I always have; my Sarah, my lion hearted daughter whom I love dearly . . . and _that_ shall never ever change." Then he paused and added,"Now, what can I get you for lunch?"


	20. Chapter 20

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to twilight or it's characters!!!!!

_Yes, its short, I know. I started class yesterday. It was a good day and, God willing and the creek don't rise, I think I can do this._

_Enjoy!!_

Chapter 20

**Unexpected Gift**

* * *

_**Brody**__: Marion's the least of your worries right now, believe me, Indy._

_**Indiana**__: What do you mean?  
__**Brody**__: Well, I mean that for nearly three thousand years man has been searching for the lost ark. It's not something to be taken lightly. No one knows its secrets. It's like nothing you've ever gone after before.  
__**Indiana**__: [__laughing__] Oh, Marcus. What are you trying to do, scare me? You sound like my mother. We've known each other for a long time. I don't believe in magic, a lot of superstitious hocus pocus. I'm going after a find of incredible historical significance; you're talking about the boogie man. Besides, you know what a cautious fellow I am_

_**Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark**_

**

* * *

**

I was off this weekend but, of course, that didn't mean the hospital couldn't or wouldn't call me if my presence was required. Dr. Cullen, _Chief of Everything_, was always on call . . . it was the price that I paid for running my own hospital. In fact Michael had already been in contact with me earlier that morning; we conferred briefly on the subject of Billy's discharge, the Quileute elder was improved enough to go home today. I'd already given Sarah the good news at breakfast, she was elated.

I found myself smiling as I thought about Sarah's reaction, the only thing that made me happier than seeing joy on the faces of my children, was joy on the face of my mate. Esme was also pleased that Billy was doing better, a fact that did not go unnoticed by me. She and I owed the elder much; the sanctuary of our permanent home, the peace that now existed between our two spices, and of course Sarah's life . . . I doubt even with my vast experience that I could have healed her without his aid.

A general _good mood_ permeated my spirit as I entered my basement lab; I hadn't felt this contented about _life, the universe, and everything_ for a number of months. With a sigh I retrieved the print out of Sarah's latest lab values off the fax machine; Michael had mentioned sending them when we spoke earlier. I sat down with the report. I had feared that her extended phasing episode and subsequent weakness might have adversely affected the parasite count in her blood, but to my relief it hadn't. As previously discovered, the organism went into hibernation while she was in lion form and returned to activity once she was human again. I still had no idea why this happened.

Over the course of the past few months, I took regular samplings of her blood. These samples, when looked at together, gave me an idea of the rate of decline in both the amount of Element X in her system as well as the number of parasites per milliliter of her blood. As the amount of the element decreased so did the numbers of the organism. I had enough information to graph the parallel decline now, both values would reach zero at the end of roughly twelve months. The only extension of these values came with her episodes of phasing. As the deadline neared, and if I had no solution yet, I would have to suggest extended periods of phased time to prolong her life. It was only a stop gap measure though, unless she wished to remain in lion form indefinitely and I couldn't see that as a practical option for her.

"Carlisle," the sudden whisper of my name made me glance towards the lab door. My beloved Esme was standing there, looking frightfully worried. "I think you'd better come upstairs, the FedEx man just delivered a package for you . . . from Volterra."

I nodded as I left my desk to follow her. There was a time when the arrival of a package from Volterra would have sent a chilling shockwave through my system. Not any more, they arrived with casual regularity these days, as I held the office of Prolocutor of the High Council of the Vampire Nation. I assumed official business to be the reason for today's delivery. Tobias mentioned in his last email to me that he would be sending me some documents for my perusal.

The rest of my family wasn't as relaxed about the whole situation as I was, they still remembered the darker times and trembled at the name _Volturi_. Except Sarah, that is, she didn't shudder at the mention Volterra, the Volturi, or its leaders. In fact, she and Aro, after their initial confrontation, actually became quite good friends. She shared a similar fondness and familiarity with our leader that I did, even referring to him affectionately as _Uncle Aro_. It was only Caius that she disliked and mistrusted . . . and on that item, I couldn't say as I blamed her.

I followed my mate up the basement stairs and into the Great Room. It sat there on the coffee table; a much larger parcel than I expected. The package was actually a wooden crate the size of a small footlocker. The rest of the family had gathered around wearing solemn faces to see what foul tidings the embodiment of doom would hold. Only Sarah wore a slight smile and Edward sneered at her because of it.

'_That's not nice,'_ I thought to my son. _'She gets along with all them, except Caius. Even Marcus smiles when Sarah's around and you know full well that ever since his mate died he's been as sour as a basket full of lemons.'_

Edward shook his head and chuckled at my thought, but he didn't reply. The others looked at him questioningly, "Something Carlisle was thinking," was all he remarked in reply.

The crate was address to me, from Aro . . . this was not a matter of government business; it was a personal correspondence. I could have taken the parcel to my lab or to my office to open it in private, but I would have been subjected to endless questioning about the contents of the box. This was not an inconspicuous little letter that I could hide in my pocket; this was a grand arrival, like a present on Christmas Eve.

"Alice," I spoke softly. "Do you see anything?"

"Well," she replied impishly, "it's not a bomb, if that's what you're asking."

"Good, I would be very disappointed if my dear friend had sent me explosives." I answered back as I reached for the corner of the lid, anyone else would have sought a crowbar but I didn't need one.

I soon had the crate lid off and I found myself gazing into a bird's nest of shipping straw; a letter rested on top of the mass of hay. I took up the page and began to read it to myself, until Rose cleared her throat rather loudly. When I looked up I found her glaring expectantly at me, as if to say, _'do you mind.'_ Edward found the entire exchange highly entertaining as he was now laughing.

"How rude of me," I excused my laps of etiquette lightly before beginning to read the letter aloud.

_Greetings and Salutations,_

_As always, my dear friend, I hope my correspondence finds you and your lovely family well and happy. I know that the arrival of this package will likely come as a bit of a surprise. You will forgive me for not sending you any forewarning about it. I am sorry for this, but things here in court have been somewhat chaotic of late. _

_The information you forwarded to me in your last email regarding the vampire, Constantine, has caused quite a stir. You see, my dear friend, he was one of the four Romanian princes that once ruled our world and, for the past fifteen hundred years, he was thought to be dead. In fact, Caius himself claimed to have killed the fiend by his own hand. How I managed to miss that gargantuan lie for all these centuries is a question that both baffles and embarrasses me. I suppose you can easily imagine the sort of turmoil this revelation has caused. I am sure that the ramifications of this debacle will be address in full at the next meeting of the Council._

_But, enough of that depressing business let us move on to something more positive. Sulpicia and I have been diligently researching your dilemma. Enclosed in this crate is an artifact of considerable antiquity; it is much older even, than me. It has been in my possession for almost three thousand years. My mate calls it 'that dirty old rock' and she has often pestered me to be rid of it; for once I am happy that I disappointed her. Also enclosed are some translated papyri that date to the time of Ptolemy's library. The scrolls make mention of a strange magic wrought by the artifact that can turn ordinary men into blood drinking immortals. _

_Perhaps the claims made by the learned men of Egypt are nothing more than conjecture, I do not know. However, if there is a single mind among our species who can derive the truth, it is you friend Carlisle. I hope this information is of some benefit to you and, ultimately, to Sarah. In the meantime, my mate and I will continue our research. So until I have more news, I bid you good luck and good hunting._

_Eternally Your Friend,_

_Aro_

_P.S.: Please don't forget to keep us informed on your progress in this matter, Sulpicia and I are very fond of young Sarah and we wish to know how she is doing._

I looked up from the letter to find the lot of them staring at me, even Sarah had me firmly fixed in her sightless gaze. Talk of magical artifacts and ancient papyri had the air in the room charged with an unusual sort of energy, I could almost taste it.

"Well," my mate's voice broke the spell, "let's see what Aro has sent you."

I nodded as I began to dig cautiously through the straw. I found the papyri first, four of them, encased in specially sealed tubs to protect them from air and light. A bit more digging and my hand brushed against the corner of something. What I pulled next from the shipping create was a small chest made of cedar, no bigger than a bread box. The surface was carved with an array of runes and strange glyphs. A carving in the center of the lid clearly depicted one man drinking blood from the neck of another man. The cedar box was indeed old, but the style of carving suggested that it dated from the 1300 to 1400's, much younger than Aro eluded too.

"Maybe he meant that what's in the box is older than he is." Edward suggested.

"Quite possibly," I answered as I held the chest reverently.

"Are you going to open it or what?" Emmett insisted. "The suspense is killing me."

Emmett's anxious expression was mirrored on the rest of their faces and I had to admit, I felt it too. I turned my attention back to the small chest only to find an ancient silver lock holding the lid fast. I grumbled under my breath and I was about to smash the lock when Alice stopped me.

"Perhaps these would be a better alternative than brute force," when I looked she was holding a set of silver keys. She must have dug through the packing straw to find them, but I didn't recall seeing her do it.

"Thank you Alice," I murmured as I accepted the keys from her.

I sat down with the chest, placing it on the coffee table next to the crate. With extreme care I fitted the key into the lock and turned it gently. The tumbler clicked and the lock fell open. I gave my family one last look before opening the chest.

The open lid reviled a nest of animal skin; the pungent smell of wolf still clung to the soft grey fur. Nestled in the fur was an object made of what appeared to be dark obsidian. A stone dagger with a blade some eight inches in length attached to a reindeer antler handle. When I picked it up and held it up to the light, I found that the glass like stone was not black, but a deep red color; the hue of old blood. The surface of the stone had a curious metallic sheen to it, and when I thrust the blade into a shaft of sunlight that streamed in through the bank of windows . . . it sparkled like ten thousand diamonds . . . just like our skin.

I couldn't fathom what a Stone Age ceremonial dagger had in common with saving Sarah's life, nor did I understand the magical power that this item supposedly held. Hopefully the ancient text on the papyri would hold the key. Of one thing I was certain, my long time friend would not have sent this priceless artifact all the way from Italy if he didn't believe it was important.


	21. Chapter 21

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to twilight or its characters

_Sorry about the delay guys, but we hit the ground running the first two weeks of school. I've had four math assingment to turn in since the 11th and a history papper due on friday comming. And of course, now my blood presure decides to act up. I've been put on a water pill and I have to see doc again next week. if it isn't one thing, its another! Oh well, 'And this too shall pass.'_

_Enjoy!!_

_**_

Chapter 21

**Written in Stone**

* * *

_For he (Solomon) cast two pillars of brass, of eighteen cubits high apiece: and a line of twelve cubits did compass either of them about. . . . And he set up the pillars in the porch of the temple: and he set up the right pillar, and called the name thereof Jachin: and he set up the left pillar, and called the name thereof Boaz. And upon the top of the pillars was lily work: so was the work of the pillars finished._

_1Kings:15, 21-22_

* * *

To anyone else, the pale grey chunk of stone sitting on my lab table would have appeared to be an indistinct piece of concrete. I, however, knew different. The fist sized rock was the last remnant of the being that had, at one time, been Sarah's earthly brother. Out of love and respect for my daughter, I handled the remains with a measure of dignity that I usually only afforded to humans or those among our kind whom I held affection for and respected. This was a courtesy that William did not earn by way of merit from his tortured existence, but one which I extended to him never the less.

In spite of having saved us all through her heroic efforts, Sarah still felt somewhat guilty for having slain her own brother. We spoke on the matter, at length and on several occasions; I did my best to give her the soundest council that I could. I also made it clear to her that I would always be open and available to listen to her concerns. Coming to terms with this would likely take her some years. Deep down, I suspected that her gnawing guilt had less to do with the man she killed and more to do with the infant brother she'd had snatched from her.

Her initial grief, all those years ago, had been ill-handled. Unfortunately this was often the case with children, as adults assumed that they would simply forget the painful events of their small years. Though I was by no means an expert on the subject of grief counseling, I did have a few ideas in mind to help Sarah along. That is, once I was finished with the remnants William; for now, he along with Aro's mystery gift, were the focus of my research.

It had always been my suspicion that Sarah's incomplete expression of the vampire genome had something to do with a defect in Cane's venom. Her continued blindness, her heretofore unheard of 'sterile' venom, and especially her unique ability as a shape-shifting immortal could all be explained away by the faulty genetics of her creator; it was a tidy explanation . . . unfortunately, it was also one that was steadily unraveling before my eyes.

According to Aro, there were no such defects among the Romanians. In fact, our earliest ancestors were also the hardest. Constantine was the known creator of countless scores, all of whom lacked any known deficiency. While I couldn't examine those masses, nor could I examine Cane; I did have a specimen of William. The results of my tests on his remains left me astounded.

As expected, the familial similarities between Sarah and her brother were very pronounced. Rarely, if ever, does one encounter blood siblings that are turned. Jane and Alec were the most well known pair I'd come across in nearly four centuries, both were created by Aro. While the scientist in me would jump at the chance to do extensive study on the two Volturi, Jane and her brother likely wouldn't consent to it. Aro tolerated and even encouraged me in my eccentric pursuit of science, the rest of the Volturi however, viewed me as utterly mad . . . the Vampire Nation's very own Dr. Frankenstein.

I dismissed the distracting notion and returned my focus to the chunk of grey stone before me. Not only did my test give me some insight into Constantine and, ultimately Cane, but it also gave me a deeper understanding of the Babineaux family line. Sarah's human genetic tree was almost as interesting_, and frustrating_ as the question of vampire origins. The fact that she existed with one foot in our world, one foot in the human world, and one paw in the world of shifters created the most delicious conundrum imaginable.

William's profile matched Sarah's almost completely; like his sister, he didn't completely express the vampire genome. That fact had startled me as it was unexpected; though why I hadn't hypothesized this myself escaped me. It would stand to reason, after all, considering they shared the same Choctaw heritage.

While he possessed many of the familial traits, the most notable one was that of shape-shifting. The level of ignorance he demonstrated regarding the Pack and his assumption that his shifted sister was in fact, _a real lion,_ forced me to assume that he had never phased himself. The reason for this would be a thing forever lost, thought Sarah had recently given me a small clue. She confided to me that the catalyst for her own phasing, the connection that bound her to her 'inner lion', was the upwelling of abiding love and loyalty that she felt for us all. William likely never found the core of power that his 'inner lion' represented, nor the force of emotions required to awaken it.

An analysis of his venom, extracted from the chunk of his remains, reviled that like his sister, William's venom was also sterile. This fact explained his plan to take Sarah back to his creator for changing. Neither Cane nor Constantine was plagued with virility issues. The unexpected revelation indicated to me that the sterility trait was likely a function of the Babineaux genome's reaction to vampire venom. The new information made me wonder if the incomplete expression of vampirism might also be due to some quirky function of Babineaux biology and not the result of a defect in Cane's DNA.

If that theory was _indeed_ the case and the Babineaux clan reacted differently than the average human to the genetic material found in vampire venom. That knowledge defiantly relieved a number of misgivings that I had about Sarah's re-transformation. I hoped a return to immortality might give my daughter back her eye sight this time; that possibility was still up in the air. A more immediate concern for me was the issue of her gifts, in particular, her ability to phase. If some function of her unique biology protected her from complete transformation, as I now suspected to be the case, she should retain her shape-shifting ability as a re-born vampire.

I smiled with satisfaction as my eyes caught a casual glance at the ancient ring on my right hand. The Cullen family crest stared back at me; I was intimately familiar with the meaning of each and every motif in the centuries old design. The central element, a lion rampant, symbolized dauntless courage and I couldn't help but think of my lion hearted daughter when I looked at it. If my theory and subsequent assumptions were correct, regardless of whom her new creator might be the Cullen family's ever vigilant lion would keep her existence as well as her mighty roar.

"You're going to be late to breakfast," Esme's voice drifted gently to my ears. She was upstairs, in the kitchen preparing the morning meal for Sarah, Bart, and Abigail. "You know how our Kitten frowns when you don't come to table." She continued to mutter knowing full well that I would hear her. "You are her Jachin just as surely as Benjamin is her Boaz."

My smile broadened to a grin, only my mate would think to compare Ben and me to the mighty bronze pillars of Solomon's Temple. Yet how true and fitting the comparison was, I mused as I rose from my desk and made my way upstairs to shower and dress for the new day. While Sarah relied on her entire family for love and support, it was on the stalwart shoulders of Benjamin and me that she leaned most heavily upon.

"I'm going to take a shower now, my love." I whispered as I darted towards our bedroom. "If I'm not at table by the time she arrives, please assure our Kitten that I'll be down directly."

******

"Here you go dear," Mama cooed as she set the plate in front of me. I could smell the mouth watering aroma of her banana pancakes wafting off the plate. "Eat them before they get cold."

Cold or hot, Mama's pancakes were heaven on earth. Bart and Abby were already enjoying their stacks along with the bacon and sliced fruit. Abs hadn't been over to our house much while her grandfather was in the hospital. Bart had been with his girlfriend every step of the way, so I missed him at the breakfast table too. Because I loved my son dearly, his absence had concerned me, but I was glad that he was there for Abby when she needed him.

"Sorry about that," Ben apologized as he re-entered the kitchen. An urgent call from his law office had caused him to step out for a few moments. He gave my shoulders a brief squeeze and kissed the top of my head before taking his seat beside me. "I had to take that, the case goes to trial the first of next week and the prosecutor is trying to wrangle my client into lesser plea. The man is innocent, of course, but the DA needs someone to pin things on."

"How do you know that he's innocent?" Abby asked smugly. "He was arrested after all; there must be compelling evidence against him, right?"

"One would think that," Ben replied gently but I could hear the tone of correction in his voice. "And one would be wrong. All too often the innocent, by virtue of their socioeconomic status, are arrested, tried, and convicted of crimes committed by others. If he were truly guilty, I assure you, I wouldn't be representing him . . . and believe me, I would know. I have a certain knack for ferreting out the truth."

"What, you mean you have some sort of supper lie detecting ability?" Abby snickered. She was jabbing at Ben, but I could tell by her voice that she didn't mean any disrespect.

"No, it's not a _gift_, if that's what you mean." Ben answered with a sigh. "Rather it is a skill born out of five hundred years of carefully studying humans. Take Bart for example; when he wishes to be deceitful, the outside corner of his left eye twitches ever so slightly. You on the other hand, my dear Abby, become highly defensive when you have something to hide." Before either of them could respond Ben leaned over and whispered to me, "You need to eat Little Love, you haven't touched your breakfast and it's growing colder by the second."

His gentle reminder prompted me to take a mouth full of Mama's heavenly creation. I was just swallowing when the sound of Papa's footsteps on the stone floor of the kitchen tinkled in my ears. These days, he and everyone else purposefully walked in such a way so that I could hear them. Ordinarily, a vampire's steps were soundless . . . except to another vampire.

"Good morning all," Papa's bright voice resonated through the room in greeting. I listened as Mama flitted to his side. Their clothing rustled as they embraced, and I could easily make out the telltale sound of Papa giving her an affectionate kiss. "It's good to see you at our table again Abigail, you've been sorely missed."

"Thanks Grandpa Carlisle," Abby replied. "I have to admit, I've missed coming here." Then she added after a brief pause, "Thank you for saving Grandpa Billy, I don't think I'm ready to lose him just yet."

"Your thanks are unnecessary, my dear." Papa soothed as he sat down and picked up his paper. The pages rustled as he began to read. "Billy is an old and dear friend of mine; I would move heaven and earth on his behalf. He was quite fortunate that we were able to stabilize him."

"Just the same," Abby insisted. "Thank you."

There was silence for a time and I managed to finish most of my breakfast. Papa gave me my medication and I took it reluctantly. I always hated the way it made me feel; I would be drowsy in about an hour and the lethargic feeling would last until mid-day. Papa said that this was normal and that my body would adjust over time . . . that was in late April and it was not late August.

"So," Abby sighed, breaking the silence. "Bart told me some mysterious package arrived from _Vampire Central_ yesterday. Is it top secret or can you clue me in?"

My father's warm laugh filled the kitchen. In that moment, I couldn't decide whose laugh I found more addictive, his or Ben's. "You're family Abby; we have no secrets from you. The package contained four papyrus scrolls from Ptolemy's library and an unusual dagger dating from the late Mesolithic era."

"What do the scrolls say Grandpa?" Bart asked. Ever since Benjamin told him about the Water's unpleasant terminal side effect, he'd been every anxious to see me_'re-vamped'_, as he put it.

"I don't know Bart," Papa's voice was calm and reassuring. "The scrolls came sealed in special tubs to protect them from light and air. I can't open them just anywhere, as the outside environment could cause them to disintegrate before I can read them."

"So where are you going to open them?" Abby prodded.

"My first choice of locations would be in the climate controlled rare books vault of some university's library." Papa replied.

"You mean a place like the vaults of the Vatican secrete library that they showed in the movie _Angels and Demons_?" Bart inquired enthusiastically. I smiled broadly; my son shared my love of the cinema. Just because I couldn't _see_ a movie didn't mean I didn't or wouldn't go _to_ the movies . . . I made Ben take me regularly.

"That was purely fictional, of course," Papa sighed. "But you've got the right idea. No such place exists near Forks, however, so I suppose I'll have to settle for _OR_ number two at the hospital."

"Why the operating room?" it was Ben's turn to be inquisitive.

"_OR_ number two is the smaller of the surgical suites, so it's used less frequently" Papa began. "The environment is sterile so I won't have to worry about microbes eating away at the scrolls and I can have the room air mixed with some inert gas like nitrogen to help retard the oxidation of the fragile papyri."

Ever since the package arrived my stomach had been in knots. A strange aura wafted off the ancient dagger, causing the usually harmonious energy in the house to vibrate erratically. In fact, when Papa took the stone knife from its box, I could have sworn I felt my radar spark to life in spite of being incapacitated by medication. I was sure that I was the only one to feel it and it made me nervous.

"Papa," I began hesitantly. "You're not going to, you know . . . stab me with that thing, are you?"

"God in Heaven, Sarah!" He exclaimed in shock. "What on earth gave you that disturbing notion?"

"Well, it's a dagger," I swallowed as frightful images danced like ghouls through my imagination. "Maybe it was used in some ritual . . . you know, like human sacrifice or something. I thought . . ."

"Your imagination is entirely too vivid for your own good." Papa interrupted me. "I don't care what the ancients might have used it for; I'm certainly not going to stab my own daughter with _it _or anything else."

"But what if that's the way the ancients did . . . stabbed their victims with the dagger to make vampires out of them?" I asked insistently. "What if it's the only way?"

The room was silent for a few brief moments before Papa answered. "Then I'll find _another_ way." He said in the softest of tones and a faint growl resonated in his voice; it was both a dismissal and a warning.

The topic of the package dropped, replaced by discussion of school and graduation. I listened with a distant ear as I couldn't help but continue to ponder the stone dagger. My imagination conjured images of my father standing over me with the awful blade raised high over his head, like Abraham ready to strike down Isaac. In my mind I saw the dagger plunging towards me and I could somehow feel the fierce bite as the jagged stone buried itself in my chest. My imagination continued its unchecked exploration as it projected the sensation of white hot pain spreading through every cell of my body; the transformation burning away every vestige of my humanity. I felt myself shudder involuntarily.

"Milady," Ben whispered in my ear. "Are you alright, you look a bit pale?"

"I think I should go lie down." I whispered in reply.


	22. Chapter 22

Note I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!!

_Yes, this is by far the shortest chapter I've ever posted. Trust me, however, it contains pivitol information and is well worth the read._

_Enjoy!!_

Chapter 22

**The Wages of Sin**

* * *

_And the Lord said unto Cain, "Where is Abel, thy brother"? And he said, "I know not: Am I my brother's keeper?"_

_And He said, "What hast thou done? The voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground. . . . . _

"_And now art thou cursed from the earth, which has opened her mouth to receive thy brother's blood from thy hand; . . . ."_

_And the Lord said unto him, "Therefore, whosoever slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold. And the Lord set a mark upon Cain, lest any finding him should kill him."_

_Genesis 5:9-11, 15_

* * *

OR number 2 was silent except for the sound of my own breathing and the soft strains of Mozart that filtered in from the surgical suite next door. Michael was working on a young Quileute boy with a broken leg in there; I had every confidence in my colleague's abilities, he could handle thing without me.

Laid out before me on the operating table, I had the first of the four papyri unrolled. So fragile was the fibrous material, that the deceptively simple process of unfurling it had taken me nearly an hour. The procedure had been no less delicate than the most complex of neurovascular surgeries. I was relieved that the millenniums old document didn't collapse into a heap of dust at my first touch.

I gawked in disbelief at the faded yet still visible hieroglyphics that stared back at me. I was likely the first person in multiple millenniums to view this forgotten text. During my early years, I traveled extensively and studied a variety of subjects other than medicine. One such subject that had fascinated me from the start was Egyptology, a discipline that I gained first hand knowledge of during my association with Amun and his mate Kebi. In the process of studying the medical practices of the ancient Egyptians, I learned to read hieroglyphics.

In spite of its faded condition and the scattered missing bits, the text was easily discernible. After a brief inspection to determine the orientation of the text, I began reading at the top left of the page:

**

_A story told by the Hebrew slaves, recorded by a lesser scribe of the Divine Pharaoh Memeptah:_

_*_

_And it came to pass at that a stranger arrived in Enoch, a warrior from a land far to the east that was yet unknown to the descendants of Cain. The stranger made his camp on the fringes of Enoch and in the fullness of time, he proved his worth and his loyalty and was accepted as a member of the tribe._

_Now it so happened that the stranger, who was called Akshay, was in possession of an item that Cain coveted; a dagger made of an unknown blood red stone that glittered like a sea of morning dew drops in the sun .It was whispered among the men of Enoch that the rock from which the blade was crafted fell from the night sky, a jewel from God's own throne. It was also rumored to be the source of Akshay's power and strength as a warrior, and that it brought him divine favor._

_Seeking relief from the curse placed upon him by God for the murder of his brother Abel, Cain determined to have the dagger . . . no matter the cost .At first he sought to acquire the dagger through honest exchange, but Akshay refused to part with his prize citing that it had belonged to his father and his father before that. Then Cain sought to trick Akshay into giving him the dagger as a gift by plying him with strong drink, but even in his drunkenness, the warrior refused. Finally in desperation, Cain decided to take that which he couldn't otherwise have._

_On a warm spring morning Cain and Akshay set out with a group of men from the tribe to hunt deer. Cain arranged things in such a way that he and Akshay were alone in a small canyon. While the warrior was distracted with the hunt, Cain attempted to steal the dagger. He was caught in his misdeed, and a fight ensued; ending with Akshay stabbing Cain through the heart with the very blade he had so fiercely coveted._

_Now Akshay, being of foreign birth, did not know of the curse place upon Cain by God nor did he know the meaning of the mark on Cain's flesh. At the very moment the dagger pierced Cain's wicked heart, thunder clashed in the cloudless sky and the voice of God rose up on the wind and he said;_

"_Upon this wicked son of Adam I have placed a warning mark. He spilled the blood of his brother in a fit of jealousy, and for this he was cursed. Now he shall walk the earth in misery for all time. He will have no country and no kinsman, he shall not know the blessed contentment of rest, and from now until the end of days the parched fire of thirst shall not leave his throat. Blood he spilled upon the earth and so it is blood which shall be his portion and cup, he shall feast upon it as men feast upon meat and bread. _

"_He will walk among men, but he is no longer a man. He will know the turning of countless ages, but the shadowy reprieve of the grave will forever elude him. And all those whom he seeks to devour, but who do not die under his hand, shall also rise to this cursed life and they shall be his bitter offspring._

"_Raise now, Cain son of Adam, and collect the wages of your sin."_

_And so Cain rose at God's command and the fire of his thirst was so great, that he fell upon the warrior Akshay and drank of his blood. Enough of Cain's senses remain however, and he stopped himself short of killing his victim, and so Akshay became the first of Cain's bitter offspring._

_But to the foreigner, Akshay, God granted a small mercy and a word of wisdom. "While your creator will walk the earth until the heaves pass away and his suffering shall know no ending, to you and to those who will follow you . . . I grant the blessing of destruction. Fire will be the only instrument that will end to your haunted existence._

"_This will be so until the fallen child of Adam finds his redemption." _

_*_

_So it is told among the Hebrew slaves of Egypt, and so it is written._

_** _

In my unnaturally long life, I had often read the fifth chapter of Genesis. The story of Cain and Abel was as familiar to me as any other. In all my studies, I could not recall a single mention of what ending Cain met. He had a number of sons, Enoch for whom the city was named, being one of them. If the text before me was to be believed then Cain, son of Adam and the first murderer among men, yet lived . . . and_ he_ was the first vampire, _our_ Adam . . . our genesis.

I couldn't decide whether to be ecstatic or depressed. This was the answer that I had sought throughout my long existence, the origin of our spices. Yet my happiness was tinted with remorse, our kind were indeed the product of God's Holy wrath, just as Aro and many others had always insisted. We were the spawn of a curse compounded upon another curse. My centuries of believing that we had some higher purpose upon the earth, one nobler than simply being harbingers of human destruction; seemed utterly wasted. Perhaps we were truly nothing more than the walking dammed, eternally loathed by a vengeful God.

For the first time in four centuries, I took note of the scent of the human that permeated the air. The rich warm aroma of human blood held the alluring promise of complete satisfaction for my eternal thirst.

_'It's our natural food,'_ Aro's long ago enticement rushed to the forefront of my mind. _'Why do you resist what you are?'_

Why indeed, I now wondered. All these years I resisted the temptation, holding to the belief that we could be better that our nature, that we _were_ better than our baser nature. That notion was a fallacy, so what use was there to persist in this difficult way of life. Venom pooled in my mouth as the thrum of the closest human heart thundered in my ears. I allowed the intoxicating scent of human blood to bring me to the brink of my control.

Then their faces marched through my mind, one at a time, beginning with Edward and Esme and ending with Sarah. They looked up to me; I was their role model, their shining example of a better and brighter way. Could I go home and face my beloved family with eyes the color of blood. Could I face myself?

_"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven,"_ I faintly heard the voice of my father whisper somewhere in the back of my mind. If we were created by God, even out of a curse, it was not by chance and not without some purpose in mind.

"Now faith," I whispered under my breath as I reached for the second scroll. "Is the substance of things hope for, the evidence of things not seen." The encouraging quote tumbled from my lips and caused a deep stirring within me. "Let us not lose faith Carlisle," I continued to mutter. "To long have I been set upon the righteous path to go and depart from it now. And if I enter into inequity, I have too many precious souls who would follow me blindly into darkness. Stand firm against the tempest, and let not your heart be troubled."

* * *

**Footnote:** No,_ **Cane**_ and _**Cain**_ are not the same person!! Yes _**Cain**_ is still alive, remember the scroll said he would walk the earth until time ended. Who is he and where is he, you ask . . . oh, if I told you that it would ruin the rest of the story.

Oh, FYI . . . Cain is NOT Aro!!


	23. Chapter 23

Note: I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!!

_Well, I managed a longer chapter for you! School is good, I made an A on my first history paper._

_Enjoy!!_

Chapter 23

**Genesis**

* * *

_Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you._

_Exodus 20_

* * *

The languid feeling of utter contentment diffused through my body as I lay curled against Ben's chest. Beyond the window of our bedroom, I could hear the driving rain and the tumultuous waves crashing on the rocks below the cliff. A smile turned the corners of my mouth up, as I became more fully awake. It was good to sleep in my own bed, in my own house once again . . . even if it was only for an afternoon nap.

After Papa left for his shift at the hospital, Ben decided I needed a distraction and to that end he took me for a drive. Like most vampire males, he had an insatiable need for speed . . . usually pushing his Jaguar well in excess of a hundred miles an hour. Lately, however, with his very human wife in the car he slowed things down, contented to do a mere eighty. We drove for a time and talked, I needed it after my overactive imagination had nearly scared me into a seizure at the kitchen table.

To my great surprise, our leisurely cruse ended when Ben pulled off the main highway. At first I was confused, as I wasn't sure where we were. The moment we hit that first familiar pot-hole in the drive, however, realization sank in and I knew we were home. He must have noticed my broad grin, because he started laughing.

This was not the first time we'd been back to Hope's Keep since our return from Peru. After Papa's confession that I was infected with a parasite, Ben brought me out her for several hours. I was hysterical from the unexpected news, but under Benjamin's tender ministrations, I soon settled down. We sat together on the couch in front of the fireplace and talked quietly and by the time we returned to my parent's house, I was feeling better.

Today we arrived around ten in the morning. Benjamin made me comfortable in the living room, even building a fire in the hearth to keep me warm, while he disappeared to the kitchen. An hour and a half later I was enjoying a picnic lunch on the couch courtesy of Chef Ben. Six years together as husband and wife, and I had no idea that the man could cook.

After lunch, we spent a considerable amount of time talking, until I grew sleepy. That's when he carried me, bridal style, up the stairs to our bedroom and deposited me on our bed. Inspired by the rainy weather and a return to our private Avalon, we engaged in some reserved yet passionate moments. All Papa's monastic rules were observed, of course, and eventually, I settled into his comfortable arms and promptly fell asleep.

"Did Milady enjoy her nap?" Ben inquired happily as he planted his hundredth kiss of the day on my forehead.

"Yes, thank you," I replied as I stretched and then curled back into him. "I'm sorry; you must have been board senseless while I slept."

"Not at all, Little Love, I enjoy watching you sleep . . . there's a peaceful, almost angelic quality to your features when you're in repose."

"Angelic, really," I never thought of myself as angelic before.

"Sublimely celestial." He chuckled as he pulled me a bit closer.

We lay in silence for a time and I listed to the soothing sound of my mate's breathing and the rhythmic pitter patter of rain against the window glass. The combination nearly lulled me back to sleep again. Just as my eyes started to drift closed, Ben took a deep breath and I knew from association that he was about to speak.

"Unfortunately, we should be getting back soon," he announced sadly. "But before we leave, there's something we need to discuss."

"It sounds serious," The tone of his voice made me a little apprehensive.

"There's no need for alarm, Little Love, I didn't mean for my tone to sound so dire," he whispered soothingly into my hair. "Alice approached me last night. Her visions concerning your future are becoming less cloudy. She sees your father finding a solution to your illness soon and thus your full return to immortality. The only obscure point that remains and has her somewhat concerned is the question of who your new creator will be."

I was more than a little surprised that there seemed to be a question regarding this matter. Ben's erotically avaricious words from our wedding night filled the forefront of my mind:

"_It should have been my mark upon you." I remembered him whispering possessively to me before racking his teeth lightly across the cursed scar. "I hope Cane rots in the deepest pit of hell for taking the pleasure of changing you away from me."_

"Did you not mean what you said on our wedding night, _Milord_?" I asked feeling, a strange mix of confusion and, for lack of a better word, lust.

"I _said_ and _did _many things that night, Milady, and I fervently meant _all_ of it," he replied and I could hear the heat of his passion echoed in every word; it made me shudder with pleasure. He chuckled softly at my reaction before continuing his explanation. "It _should_ have been my mark, my venom flowing in your veins; there is nothing on earth that would satisfy me more than to posse you completely."

"Then why is there a question now?"

"Because, sweetling, in spite of my resolve on the matter, two extenuating circumstances come to mind." He paused as I snuggled against him, shifting positions to make myself more comfortable. "First of all," he began when I was still again. "There is the issue of my curriculum vitae; in short my darling, I have not always been a vegan therefore I have a historical affinity for human blood. I have never bitten a human that I did not kill and fear I might not be able to stop myself once I get the taste of you in my mouth."

In all my titillating fantasies about Ben turning me, I hadn't considered that. "But I trust you." I squeaked, "You don't really want to . . . devour me, do you?"

"Not in _that _particular sense, no," he answered huskily as his hand trailed up and down my side causing me to shiver with desire. "As to your implicit trust of me, I find it profoundly humbling.

"I've never shared this with you before, but," he took a deep breath and sighed, "You smell absolutely intoxicating, far better than anything that I've ever come across in over five centuries. You are _my singer_, Sarah, even now your blood calls out to me and it takes every ounce of my control and the eternal love that I have for you not to give myself over to its dark seduction."

I'd heard Edward talk about Bella being his singer, about how difficult it was for him not to kill her the first time they met. Papa had a theory concerning singers; he proposed that this phenomenon was the physical manifestation of the all consuming life bond that existed between true mates.

"_Find your singer",_ he'd once said, "_and you've found your life mate . . . of course you have to manage not to kill them."_

He further explained that while he felt no compulsion to kill Esme, he had noted that she was the best smell and most tempting human he'd ever run across. _"If human blood had been even the least bit appealing to me, I suppose I would have found you mother's to be . . . the nectar of heaven's own cup." _

"I didn't mean to frighten you, Little Love. Please let me assure you . . . I am presently in full control of myself and so you're in no danger." He insisted when I didn't respond to his confession. "I would never seek to put you in jeopardy."

"You mentioned two reasons," I didn't want to think about Ben losing control with me right now or the dark consequences that would follow. I trusted him, wholly and completely and nothing would ever change that . . . even if it was the death of me. "What's the other one?"

Ben remained silent for several minutes and I could tell the lawyer in him was carefully formulating a response. "Your deep-seated emotional need for familial bonds, more specifically your desire to have real parents again. . ."

"And what's wrong with that?" I interrupted him angrily as I pulled away from him slightly.

"Calm down my love, I wasn't trying to be accusatory," he soothed. "Of course there's nothing wrong with it. I admire the relationship that flourishes between you and your parents, it's really quite beautiful."

"Then why would you consider it an _extenuating circumstance_?" I relaxed a little, allowing him to pull me back into his embrace. For all intense and purposes I considered Carlisle and Esme Cullen as my _real_ parents. They took me in and nurtured me as if they had born me from infancy. In fact, given the wild ride of my newborn years, in a way they had.

"Excuse me, Your Honor, but would you kindly allow me to finish my argument before threatening to charge me with contempt of court?" He paused and, after a deep sigh, I nodded my willingness to let him continue. "Thank you. Now, I think the misunderstanding lies in your interpretation of the phrase 'extenuating circumstance' which you perceive to mean something negative. I assure you; that is not the case.

"I merely mean to say that, while Carlisle is your father in heart and soul, there is an unspoken desire . . . that I find _in both of you . . . _to have that bond extended to its logically _physical_ completion."

As an accomplished trial lawyer, Benjamin had a bad habit of being verbose. "You mean we both wish that he was my genesis instead of Cane?"

"Yes, but it's much more complex than that, sweetling," he cooed. "Have you noticed that, while each of your siblings whole heartedly consider Carlisle to be a father to them, it is only you who addresses him as _Papa_?"

I _had_ noticed this, but never gave it much thought. "He's never told me to stop."

"And he likely never will." Ben sighed. "He finds the affectionate address just as warm and comforting as you . . . he sees you in the same light in which you see him. You are his _little girl_ just as surely as he is your _Papa_.

"In summation, I think it would be only right and proper if you allowed Carlisle to initiate your transformation." He kissed me then, pressing his lips firmly against my forehead. I knew this was a very difficult thing for him, giving up his right as my mate to claim my body with his venom, but I also knew he was sincere in his motives.

"Are you sure Ben?" I knew he was, but I needed to hear his affirmation.

"The only thing that I am surer of, my beloved is my absolute and unending love for you." He replied. The husky possessive tone that always made fire dance in my blood was back in his voice and I shuddered.

"I suppose we should tell him."

"Hum, I suppose you're right," he nuzzles my hair absently. "I was thinking that this evening would be a good time." He paused and his hand lightly tipped my chin up, "But before we go rushing back to your parent's house, I believe you might enjoy a bit more of this." His lips claimed mine and I was soon lost in a blissful haze of passion . . . happily forgetting how to breathe.

******

I returned home from my shift at the hospital to find my house embroiled in its usual form of happy chaos. In the living room, Emmett, Jasper, Rose, Alice, and Bart were busy with a new video game. Esme had recently perched a Wii console, my wife wasn't into technology so it surprised me when she bought it. The unobtrusive little white box now reviled Emmett's Xbox and our vast movie collection as a source of family distraction. Even before I walked through the door, I could hear my children and grandson whooping and hollering from all the way out in the front yard. It was a good thing we didn't have close neighbors.

"Hey Grandpa, what to play?" Bart asked enthusiastically. He was the only one who routinely invited me to play video games and he had done so ever since he was a little boy.

I smiled at his request. "Perhaps later, Bart, right now I think I'd like to greet my mate."

"Kitchen," Rose answered absently as her on-screen character annihilated Emmett's with a vicious sword slash.

I nodded as I set my bag down on the table near the foot of the stairs before starting across the room towards the kitchen.

"Ok, Grandpa" Bart called after me. "But I want a chance to redeem myself at Lightsaber Duels. You beat me last time, but I've been practicing."

"Eger to learn you are, my young Padowan," I chuckled softly as I gave my best impression of Yoda. "A Jedi Master you wish to be . . . The Force is strong with you youngling, do not rush you training."

"Ha, ha . . . very funny," I heard Bart answer smartly, but I ignored him as I rounded the corner and entered the kitchen.

I found Esme giving a very eager Abigail cooking lessons, the sight made my whimsical smile broaden to a full grin. My wife loved to cook and took to the task of preparing meals for the human members of our family with overwhelming exuberance. The thing she enjoyed more than cooking, however, was instructing others in the culinary arts. In Abby she found a willing and adept student.

"Hello, love," I greeted happily. My wife was instantly beside me, wrapping her arms around me in welcome. I planted an affectionate kiss on her cheek causing Abby to cast her eyes downward and blush slightly. "Sorry, Abs," I apologized. "But, one day soon, you'll understand."

"Sure Grandpa Carlisle, I know," she replied nervously. "It's just, when the two of you do that, well . . . it's like watching my parents kiss . . . gross."

"Your parents love each other Abby, you should count yourself blessed." The divorce rate in the modern society was insane, if only humans could find the sort of life-bonds that existed among shape-shifters and vampires. Abby nodded at my comment and went back to mixing potatoes with butter and cream in a large bowl.

"I found Jasper, Alice, Rose, and Emmett in the Great Room," I sighed as I watched Esme return to tending her cook pots. "Where are the others?"

"Edward and Bella wanted to spend the day at the cottage." Esme replied as she sprinkled a hand full of dried herds into the pot of mashed potatoes that Abby had been busily stirring. "Ben and Sarah left this morning after you set off for the hospital, they haven't returned nor have I heard from them. I was going to call them around lunch time, but Alice wouldn't let me. She insists they're fine, but if _you_ would care to rain on their parade . . . I won't object."

Feeling curious as well as slightly annoyed, I fished my cell phone from my pocket. Just as I was about to press the call button, Alice bounded into the kitchen and hopped up to sit on the nearest empty counter top. As she passed by me, she snatched the phone from my hand.

"Nosey." She chided me with a wicked grin on her face. "Honestly, can't two married adults have just a smidgen of privacy these days?" A deep scowl creased my brow as I watched her push my confiscated phone into the pocket of her jeans. "Don't worry; I'll give it back in a little while." She informed me.

"Now tell me Missy," I fixed Alice with my most sever glare. "Just what's supposed to happen if the hospital calls?" I asked rather indignantly as I crossed my arms over my chest.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Dhuh! If the hospital was going to call, which they're not, I would know. Besides I won't be keeping this for long, just until Sarah and Ben get back . . . which should be . . . wait for it . . . wait for it . . ." I heard the front door open and close. "Right now."

She hopped off the counter and ghosted to my side, pressing my phone back into my hand. "She has something very important she wishes to discuss with you," Alice whispered into my ear, then she pulled back and fixed me with her intensely enigmatic stair. "Don't blow this Carlisle; you have no idea of the magnitude . . ."

Her words trailed off and she turned her attention to the kitchen door. I smell Sarah's rich human scent even before she and Ben rounded the corner. When I turned towards the door, I found them standing there, hand in hand. Both my daughter and son-in -law wore quite serious expressions.

"Papa, could you spare a moment?" Sarah asked rather formally.

"You know I'm never too busy for my family." I cast a nervous glance at Alice before continuing. "Why don't we take this up stairs to my office?"

With the door closed we made ourselves comfortably; Sarah and Ben sat on the small sofa and I took the armchair. Alice's warning and Sarah's continued serious expression had me feeling very unsettled.

"What can I do for you?" I asked in an effort to get things moving. I had initially wondered if Sarah might be ill, but an inconspicuous deep breath told me her health was not in jeopardy. Other things I scented on her personal aroma did have me concerned and I could only hope that my rules regarding their marital conduct were being followed.

"Well," Sarah began shyly. "Uhm, Ben and I were talking today and . . . uhm . . ."

I could tell by her expression and stumbling speech that she was having difficulty pulling her words and thoughts together. From past experience with her, I knew this must be something major. I couldn't guess at what might be bothering her, but the sense of foreboding I initially felt in the kitchen turned into sickening dread.

"Shall I do this, Milady?" Ben inquired gently as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You seem to be at an impasse."

I watched my daughter shake her head, take a cleansing breath, and try again. "Alice shared with Ben that she sees you close to a solution to my illness." She confessed and I smiled; Alice had shared her recent visions with me earlier this morning.

"But there's still a cloudy bit," She went on. "I need to decide who will change me . . . I need to choose between you and Ben."

So that's what had her all out of sorts, she was feeling guilty for wanting her mate to be her creator. I dismissed her concern with a whispered shush. "Here now, it's quite natural for you to want Benjamin to turn you. Bella practically insisted that Edward be her genesis and I couldn't imagine anyone else having the pleasure of changing your mother." I paused and then added, "It's nothing for you to feel guilty about, sweetheart."

She didn't respond right away, instead she looked very confused. This was obviously difficult for her; she would need lots of encouragement. Perhaps I would give her some new token of inclusion to further solidify our bond. The white cane she used to aid her locomotion bore our family crest, maybe it was time that I got her something more personal, a pendent or ring, emblazoned with the insignia.

"No, Papa, you don't understand . . . I want it to be you." She whispered, drawing me from my thought and stunning me at the same time. "Ben and I discussed it and we both agree."

I was beside myself and for a moment, without words. When I could think again I spoke gently to her. "Honey, this is a once in a lifetime moment . . . you've been given a unique opportunity in being able to choose your creator."

I sighed, in my heart of hearts I _wanted_ to be Sarah's genesis. More than anything, I wanted to be her father both in venom _and _in name, but this was too important a matter to let my own selfishness get the better of me. "Ben is your mate; you needn't feel obligated to select me for this honor."

"But Papa you don't . . ." Sarah began but Ben interrupted her.

"Little Love, please allow me." Benjamin intruded, and moments later she nodded her acquiescence. "While nothing would give me greater pleasure than to claim my mate completely, I fear that this is quite impossible. I do not trust myself not to kill her in the process and I would be unable to live with myself if I did. This circumstance is too important to trust to my inexperienced hands. You, Carlisle, are the only other soul on this planet whom I would entrust Sarah's transformation to."

Again I was stunned by the turn of events. According to Edward Sarah continually entertained fantasies of Benjamin turning her . . . some of them so vivid that they caused her brother no end of embarrassment.

"Benjamin, do you honestly think that I would allow you to . . ." I didn't get to finish my statement as my daughter interrupted me.

"My parents are dead," Sarah insisted as a silver tear traced its way down her cheek. I felt my heart burst with the desire to rush over and hug her. "My family is gone, snatched away from me by a monster. I was all alone in the world until you guys took me in. You protected me from Cane and then, when he bit me and change me, you showed me how to live and survive in my new life. You're everything I've ever wanted . . . my new family, sort of anyway. I loved my birth parents, but they're gone forever and I'm all alone. I don't have a mother and father . . ."

I couldn't take it any longer; her words stung me so deeply I wanted to weep. Instantly I was next to her as I wrapped one arm around her shoulders and captured her face with my free hand. "I never want to hear you say that you haven't got a mother or father ever again." I paused and wiped away her tears with the pad of my thumb. "Sarah Annaëlle Cullen de Mont Virun you do indeed have a mother . . . _in_ _Esme_, and a father . . . _in me_. As God is my witness, I swear, so long as there is life and strength in this body, I shall continue to be your father until time is no more."

Then I took her face and held it between my hands. How I wished she could look into my eyes and see my emotions mirrored there, instead I would have to be sure I reflected them in my voice. "I would consider it a great honor and privilege to be you creator . . . to become your father, not just in heart and spirit, but to be your father by virtue of venom. If this is the desire of your heart, Sarah, then you shall_ not_ be denied."


	24. Chapter 24

Note: I do own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!!!!

_I took a break from studing for my Trig test to post this._

_Enjoy!!_

Chapter 24

**The Magi and the Thief**

* * *

_I hope that Allah will not make me immortal, for death is his greatest gift to any true believer._

_**Tale of King Umar al-Numan**_

_**A Thousand and One Nights**_

**_

* * *

_**

My voice echoed through the vastness of the Great Room as I read from the yellow-brown scrap of papyri in my hand. When I examined the passage in the privacy of OR number 2, it excited me so much that I knew it must be shared with the rest of the family. I had the distinct impression that all these 'clues' were leading me to the discovery of something quite amazing, but my inhuman mind simply couldn't put it all together just yet. I was sure that even the intrepid Mr. Sherlock Holmes would find this mystery stimulating.

Of course, the scrolls and dagger that Aro sent had already given me the 'answer of answers', namely, the origin of the vampire species. The information was also supposed to help me with Sarah's case, and it had, by way of giving me a much needed infusion of hope.

Since her confession that she wished me to be her genesis, I worked out a way by which to remove the unwanted parasites from her system thus preparing her body for re-transformation. I had every confidence that the process would work flawlessly; I now had only to modify the necessary medical equipment and somehow test it. Once the organisms were removed, I would have to act expeditiously to initiate the change. Sarah would only have enough residual bio-waste in her system to keep her alive for about seventy two hours.

Then of course, there was my own 'special little project' that I was puttering with down in the lab. My present experimentations were the real issue holding up Sarah's re-transformation. I wasn't ready yet; I needed more time to perfect my surprise. I felt a grin spread across my face as I considered my plan. I knew it would be worth the extra time that I was investing and I couldn't wait to see the look on Sarah's face when I told her about it . . . after she woke up as a newborn, of course.

By virtue of his gift, Edward knew about my plans and he flashed me his infamous crooked smile every time he caught me thinking about it. My son didn't seem hostile towards the notion and his only comment on the subject was to insist that I spoiled Sarah far more than was healthy _for either of us_ . . . and to insist that I was a consummate overachiever. I took both statements as complements.

The sound of Edward's snickering drew my attention back to the scroll in my hands. I focused on the faded Greek text as I continued to read:

******

_From the writings of the wise magus, Balthazar, and translated from Old Persian into the Greek by a scribe of Ptolemy's court,_

_*_

_And so it came to pass that I have fallen into the possession of a most unique artifact. The item, which once belonged to the "outcast of outcasts", the spiller of first blood upon the earth; he who is known among the Hebrews as Cain, came into my possession by way of a certain street urchin and thief whom I befriended many years ago . . . one Aladdin by name._

_My nefarious friend approached me with this most remarkable item on the eve of the first full moon of fourth month of the year. He pounded on my door in the small hours before dawn, creating quite a stir among the servants of my household. When I came down from my observatory to investigate the commotion, I found my apprentice, Cassim, holding a very frightened Aladdin at sword point. Clutched tightly to the thief's chest, he held a most unusual wooden box. He insisted, with terror in his eyes, that those whom he had pilfered the treasure from would soon seek him out and destroys him, and that I was the only man alive wise and pious enough to entrust this ghastly object too._

_After sending my servants away and giving my friend a measure of spiced wine to calm his frayed nerves, I questioned him about the artifact he guarded so fiercely. He would not speak of it nor would he give me any sort of indication as to what it might be. The only information he would divulge was that he had stolen the object from the lair of a very powerful djinni. He described the demon as having skin as pale and white as bleached bones and it sparkled like diamonds in the desert sun. Its hideous eyes, he insisted, glowed a most unnatural bright crimson. Most gruesome of all, however, were the demon's feeding habits._

"_Blood!" My friend Aladdin shrieked several times before I could calm him again. He went on to insist that he had witnessed the djinni falling upon unsuspecting wayfarers and shepherds and then . . . drinking their blood. The demon sucked every ounce of essence from his victims; he went on nervously to explain, until they were as empty as old wineskins. _

_I mercifully relieved Aladdin of his monumental burden and filled his pockets with enough coins to fund his escape from Bagdad. After shutting and locking all the doors to my home, I took my prize into the sequester confines of my work room. Inside the rather ordinary box I found a rare and exquisite treasure, a dagger made of a strange blood red stone; I had never witnessed the likes of such before._

_I made a complete investigation of the ancient blade. By its intricate style I surmised that it had been crafted far to the east where the men worshiped the Great Mother Goddess. The stone itself had odd properties, looking more like some new metal wrought by the hand of a master alchemist than it did rock quarried from the earth. When held into a shaft of sunlight, the surface of the blade sparkled like ten thousand stars. It was then that I deduced that the stone from which the blade was formed must have fallen to earth from the heavens. Why such an ordinary object had been made wrought from such an extraordinary and auspicious substance as a chunk of fallen star, I could not fathom. Who, exactly, had made it? And, perhaps most pressing of all, how had it come into the possession of a djinni?_

_I continued to wonder about the dagger's mystical originals until I discovered a frail papyrus scroll wedged in the lid of the box. It read:_

"_That which Almighty God blesses is blessed beyond measure, but whatsoever He should curse is left in despair and desolation and knows only thirst . . . and more thirst. _

_Behold the Dagger of Akshay, the Immortal One. He sought to kill Cain; the Outcast of Outcasts, cursed by God to wander the earth until Heaven and everything under it passes away. It was by this blade and by the Words of Almighty God that Cain was transformed into an earthbound demon; a drinker of blood who cannot die . . . the undead that does not sleep._

_Beware the curse of Cain and the dark power of Akshay's blade least any who should possess this evil instrument fall prey to its foul . . . . ."_

_******_

My voice trailed off there as I reached the end of the text. The rest of it was lost to the ravages of time and, by the looks of the charred and tattered edge of the document, fire as well. I looked up to meet the eyes of my family; The Great Room was so still that one could literally hear a pin drop.

"Well," Rose grumped. "What happened next; _fall prey to its foul_ . . . what?"

"I don't know Rose, that's all there is." I answered honestly. "However, I too wish the text was complete, I find its implications fascinating."

"Papa," Sarah chimed in, her face bore a thoughtful expression that I found most adorable. "What's a magus?" She asked shyly.

"Oh, well . . . it's an antiquated term that can be used interchangeably with mage or magi." I replied. "You don't find it used much in the common vernacular these days."

"Whoa . . . hold the phone a minute, Grandpa," Bart interrupted, waving his hand as he chuckled, "Mage as in wizard, like Gandalf or Dumbledore. You mean we're talking magic now; some sort of spell is on that dagger. I always thought Mom's dragon stories were wild, but this stuff is really out there."

I couldn't help but laugh, he was right after all . . . at least about some things. "No, Bart," I managed between a few chuckles of my own. "A mage, magus, or magi is not a wizard; although that is the meaning which the terms later became associated with. In the context of this scroll, Ptolemy's scribe is referring to a priest or wise man of the ancient Zoroastrian faith. They were astronomers and learned men; academics who studied and practiced a verity of disciplines . . . including medicine.

"You might be more familiar with their biblical exploits; _'Behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem. Saying, where is he that is born King of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the east, and have come to worship him.'_ The Gospel of Mathew, chapter two, verses one and two_."_

I had no sooner had I finished my statements when Bart leapt to his feet, a eureka moment clearly written on his face.

That's right . . . We Three Kings!" He exclaimed as his hand raked hastily through his dark hair. Then his expression turned contemplative, "They had names, I remember reading about that. One of them was from Persia, one was Ethiopian and the other was Asian . . . but I can think of their names."

"Caspar, Melchior, and . . . Balthazar," Edward supplied quietly.

The room went still again as the members of my family pondered the burning question. So heavy was it on the cusp of everyone's thoughts that, even thought I didn't posses Edward's gift, I could hear it tumbling through ten different minds at once.

"You don't suppose," Rose finally decided to voice the unanimous thought. "That the Balthazar mentioned in the scroll is the same one who . . ."

She paused, allowing the impossible question to trail off. Ben however picked things up. "Followed a star to Bethlehem and worshiped the Christ child."

Once again the room was plunged into silence. While Mathew didn't give names to the three wise men, the ones supplied by Edward were an entrenched part of the western Christian traditions. Even in my youth, listening to the Christmas story related by my father from the pulpit of his church, he referred to the Magi by those names.

"I have a better question," Emmett's voice broke the silence, distracting me from my thoughts. All eyes cast on him as we waited to see what query he would pose. Em wasn't known for his profoundness of thought; still he sometimes managed to surprise me.

"Is the Aladdin mention by that magus dude . . . _The Aladdin_, you know rub the lamp and get three wishes?" He inquired with genuine enthusiasm. "Cause, wouldn't it be cool if Aro was _really _Aladdin and he had the magic lamp hidden somewhere in the Volturi palace." His grin broadened as he continued, "I'm surprised Caius hasn't found it and used it to take over the world."

There was a moment of delay before rancorous laughter erupted from the entire family. I noticed, even through my own mirth, that Em looked terribly hurt . . . he had been quite serious in his proposition.

"I'm sorry, Emmett, we didn't mean to laugh at you." I apologized when my amusement subsided. "I have had a long and close association with the leader of our world, and I can assure you that he is not the fabled Aladdin. Aro is Etruscan in origin; Aladdin was from Persia . . . no relation there son, sorry."


	25. Chapter 25

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!

Chapter 25

**Newton's Theory**

_**Dumbledore**__: Only a person who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get it. That is one of my more brilliant ideas. And between you and me, that is saying something._

_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_

_J.K. Rowling_

Months had pasted since I'd last touched clay. I couldn't help the silly smile that curled my lips as my hand worked the cool silky grey mass. I noted how the plastic material warmed under my touch even as it changed shape at my will. Creativity had an almost mystical power all its own, an extension of the divine energy that formed order out of the chaos of the void. It was little wonder then that many of the Great Masters were quite mad; driven past the brink of sanity even as they held firmly to the celestial lightening rod of their gift.

The dark days of my own madness had the opposite effect, nearly extinguished the fire of my creativity. For a long time, I couldn't find either the inspiration or the desire to create. Upon my return from Peru, I wanted nothing more that to curl up under a rock somewhere. Today, however, with the prospect of my return to immortality a growing reality and the shadow of my impending demise a receding nightmare, I was in a much brighter mood.

I felt so much better, in fact, that I'd spent the morning working in my corner of Mama's studio, fleshing out the wire armature that Edward fashioned for me overnight. I described to him in great detail how I wanted the grouping of wolves to look and, as always, he executed the framework perfectly. Perhaps it had less to do with my descriptions and more to do with the images that my imagination conjured of the finished work . . . mental images that his unique gift allowed him to read as easily as a blueprint.

"Whoa, Mom," Bart greeted me as I listened to his and Abby's footsteps coming into the room. "You're working again, that's awesome."

"I'll say," Abby chimed in. "The first time my Dad told me you could sculpt and knowing that you were, you know, blind . . . well, I didn't believe him. How do you do it?"

I found myself giggling at Abby's question, "How does a bumble bee fly?" I asked in return. "According to science, they shouldn't be able too, but they can."

"Ok, it's now official; your Mom has been hanging out with Grandpa Carlisle too long." Abby replied smartly. "Answering questions with questions, that's just not fair."

We were all laughing now and it felt better than good, it felt marvelous.

"Did I hear someone speaking my name," Papa's warm jovial tone preceded him into the room. "I'll have you know, Abby, that the practices of answering questions with questions happens to be a long standing and valuable academic tradition."

I listened to Papa's almost imperceptible footsteps as he floated to my side. Once beside me, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kissed me lightly on the top of my head.

"It's good to see you working again, Kitten." His voice resonated with satisfaction as he continued, "I was beginning to worry that I would never again witness the wonder of your artistic talent."

"I'm feeling better," I hummed. "For the first time since all this started I feel hopeful; like I really have a chance."

He patted my shoulder affectionately in response to my assertion. "Hope is a powerful thing. I once had a patient who I diagnosed with cancer and referred to a very good oncologist. His prognosis was dismal; death within a few months. At the same time, his son entered high school and he indicated he wished to attend college.

"A few months stretched into almost ten years as the man lived to see his son graduate from high school and later earn his PhD. in physics from MIT."

"Amazing," Abby muttered.

It was amazing, and I was willing to bet that this was only one in a whole galaxy of amazing stories that my Papa could tell. After nearly four centuries of existence, the miraculous sights he must have been witness to would boggle the mind.

"I just got off the phone with Ben," Papa announced drawing me back to the present moment, "he's going to make a brief stop to hunt on his way home, but he should be here in the next hour or so. When he arrives, we need to have another very informal Family Council. I have some announcements to make and I have a couple of surprises. Bart, you and Abby will, of course, join the rest of us in the Great Room."

"Sure thing," Bart replied. "Is it something serious; not more vamps out to destroy everybody?"

"Oh, no . . . nothing like that," Papa assured everyone. "This will be pleasant business."

0o0o0o0o0o

I held the sample up to the frosted window of my lab, examining the pale amber liquid in the diffused light that filtered in. My long hours of hard work finally paid off four days ago when the splicing technique I invented was successful. In my hands I held the most unusual sample of venom in the world, genetically engineered to my exacting specifications. I now had enough of this precious liquid to initiate Sarah's retransformation.

Manipulating human genetic material was child's play when compared with manipulating vampire DNA. Thankfully, by virtue of the fact that I was her creator, my genes and those of my mate shared a number of similar features. Ordinarily, mixing the venoms of multiple vampires in a single human host was lethal and, had Esme and I come from two different creators, I doubted that my theory would have been successful.

Like combining sperm and ovum together to create an embryo for artificial insemination, I had meticulously combined my venom with Esme's. As a result, when I eventually introduced the recombinant venom into Sarah's blood she would, in essence, have two creators . . . two parents, a _father_ and a _mother_. It was as much a gift for my beloved Esme as it was for Sarah. My wife longed for a child that I could never give her and my daughter longed for the mother that was stolen from her. With Sarah's full restoration to us, both of them would have the desperate longings of their hearts fulfilled.

"Carlisle, everyone is ready," my mate's sweet voice filtered down from the main floor.

I returned the sample to my lab table and picked up the last of the three shipping tubes that arrived with Aro's dagger. Part of this afternoon's business would be to share the astounding document with the family. When I read it the first time, all the loose ends that had plagued my mind came together. I now understood the importance of the dagger as well as its relationship to the Water of Life.

As I entered the Great Room, I found the family assembled and waiting for me. I took my seat beside Esme and prepared to begin. I couldn't help but smile as my eyes fell on Sarah. Soon, I thought, soon the nightmare would end and the sector of death would be banished from my doorstep.

"I've completed work on the filtration unit and tested it on a sample of Sarah's blood." I began. "It removed all traces of the parasite from the sample . . ."

A happy murmur rose from the assembled members of my family, interrupting my speech. How could I be upset by the interruption as none of them, including me, wanted to lose Sarah.

"If I could continue," I insisted quietly. When they came to order again I went on. "With my experimentation complete and successful, it is now time to move on to the next phase." I turned the full focus of my attention to my daughter, "It's time for you to choose your new birthday sweetheart."

I could tell by her expression that she was stunned and it took her several moments to regain her composer.

"You mean I get to chose the day and time of my transformation?" Both surprise and happiness played in her voice.

"I don't see why not, you've chosen who you wish to change you. Why shouldn't you choose the day as well?" I paused to watch her face for several seconds before adding, "New Years is right around the corner . . . would you like to be a New Years newborn?"

"What is today?" she asked shyly.

"December the seventh, Milady," Ben supplied.

"Would the first of the year give you enough time, Papa?"

"More than enough," I replied happily. "We could begin tonight if you so desired."

"New Years is fine," she hummed contentedly before snuggling into her mate's side.

With that matter firmly settled I moved on to other business. After pausing to change mental gears, I took up the shipping tube that I placed on the coffee table when I sat down.

"Ooh, more ancient scrolls," Emmett moaned. "What will the ancestors reveal this time; did the dagger belong to the Prince of Persia, can it turn back the hands time?"

Before I could say anything Edward smacked his brother in the back of the head. "Shut up, and maybe you'll actually learn something."

"You want me to learn something Bro," Emmett sneered. "Why don't we step outside and . . ."

"Gentlemen, that is quite enough," I interrupted sternly as I glared at the two of them. When they were quiet again I sighed and removed the document from the tube. "If you're done squabbling, I would like to read this letter . . . you might even find it interesting."

"A letter to whom, Papa?"

"The better question, Kitten, would be; a letter _from_ whom?" I insisted warmly. "The address on the back of the letter indicates that it was written to one Nicolas Fatio de Duillier, a Swiss mathematician who lived between 1664 and 1753. It is, however, the handwriting and signature of the letter's author that is of more interest . . . this letter was penned by none other than Sir Isaac Newton."

"Wait a minute," Bella interrupted. "You mean _**the**_ Isaac Newton . . . objects in motion tend to stay in motion while objects at rest tend to stay at rest . . . that Newton?"

"Indeed, I mean _that _Newton." I answered with a smile. Once, on a rainy London afternoon, I met Sir Newton at the public library. We spent the rest of the afternoon discussing the principals of applied physics. "He and Mr. de Duillier were close friends and both of them dabbled in the occult; more specifically the art of Alchemy."

"You mean like, turning lead into gold." Jasper's eyebrows knotted together as he pondered the concept. "I didn't think that was actually possible."

"It isn't," I replied. "Alchemy is a pseudo-science. Those who practiced it were not only interested in the transformation of one element into another, they saw in their art the ability to find the essence of immortality. The holy grail of Alchemy was the creation of the Philosopher's Stone; a translucent blood red stone with almost God like properties from which the Elixir of Life could be produced.

"References to the Stone, in one form or another date back to ancient Egypt and beyond and they can be found across a widely diverse cultural cross section. Legends are like pearls; each begins with a single ordinary grain of sand and then they grow to become something magical."

"Will you read the letter Papa," Sarah whispered.

"I thought you'd never ask." I chuckled.

I took a deep breath, cleared my throat and began to read:

**OOOOO**

_May 7, 1693_

_Dear Nicolas,_

_My esteemed friend, I write to you now to inform you of my most recent and fortuitous discovery. As you are well aware of my research into the ancient discipline of alchemy, I will not trouble you with complex theories. Suffice it to say, however, that I have found the lost wisdom that man and history have long deemed false and fantastical. I have found it Nicolas; currently I am in temporary possession of the Philosopher's Stone._

_You will think me a mad man, as you have warned me on more than one occasion to abandon my quest. But I tell you earnestly, I have The Stone! Even as I pen this letter, it sits upon my work bench gleaming in the lamplight. My excitement is tempered with a measure of disappointment, however, as The Stone is not at all what I expected it to be. Also, I wish I could tell you that it came into my possession by virtue of my skill in the art of alchemy, but alas this is not the case. _

_The Stone was brought to me by a gentleman of distinctly Middle-eastern heritage who claimed to represent The Stone's owner; a wealthy Italian nobleman. He insisted that his master had found the item some time ago while on excursion to a mysterious place called Al-Khazneh. The relic had supposedly resided there since the time of Our Lord's birth. This directly disputes the claim of Nicolas Flamel who, as you know, insisted he had created such an object through his skills in alchemy. _

_I said that it is not what I expected, and now I will further explain this sad observation. Flamel described a blood red stone the size of a man's fist. What rests upon my work bench is indeed made from a blood red stone; a strange translucent red stone with oddly metallic properties. According to the accompanying documents that I managed to translate, the substance fell from the heavens; the Philosopher's Stone is celestial in origin. While the stone itself might have come from heaven, it has been fashioned by the hands of man into a most sinister form; the fist sized stone described by Flamel is actually a primitive stone dagger. _

_But here is where my tale takes on the characteristics of a mad man's ravings; according to the documents, the dagger is as old as antiquity itself and once belonged to none other than the infamous Cain. Unless my translation is significantly flawed, both Cain and the blade were cursed by God; thus the first born son of Adam still walks the earth as a foul creature of darkness, the incarnation of the living dead . . . a blood drinking vampire. _

_I assure you, my friend, I have not taken leave of my senses. I implore you, come to London, post haste, and see the truth with your own eyes. The Italian nobleman, Lord Aro, to whom the stone belongs, has entrusted this treasure to me until the first frost of autumn. I may explore its properties all I like in that time, but I must submit a full treatise on the subject when I return the dagger._

_Come my friend, come to London and see this wonder of wonders for yourself!_

_Your loyal friend,_

_Isaac _

**OOOOO**

"He wrote a paper on the damn thing," Rose grumped as she nodded towards the dagger lying on the coffee table. "Why didn't Aro include Isaac Newton's writings, it would have saved us loads of trouble."

"I don't think Sir Newton got the chance to do much research or to write a report." I answered sadly. "Shortly after this letter was written, the poor man suffered a nervous breakdown."

"So all that crock about Flamel and the Sorcerer's Stone was a lie," Emmett grumped.

"I don't think so, Em … at least not entirely." My mind had been stewing over this subject for the better part of three days now. "Remember what I said earlier about pearls." My family nodded in unison. "The meteor shower that brought the chunk of star at the bottom of the pool in Peru to earth was likely the same one that brought down this piece from which Akshay's ancestors fashioned the dagger. What's to say Nicolas Flamel didn't find another chunk somewhere in the French country side. The lie wasn't the existence of the Stone, but rather where it came from."

"What's to say that more of them aren't out there?" Edward sugested.

He had a point, given the diverse scope of the legend. It was quite likely that other meteorites from the same massive shower were still out there, undiscovered. "You're quite right Edward. At the next meeting of the Council, I'll bring up both my research and that fact. This may be an issue we need to take up."


	26. Chapter 26

**Note:** I do not own or have rights to Twilight or its characters!

_Sorry, its short, but the next chapter will likely be longer._

_Enjoy!_

Chapter 26

**Seasons**

_There is a time for everything,_

_and a season for every purpose under heaven._

_Ecclesiastes 3:1_

The smell of spiced cider and fresh pine barely covered the lingering aroma of alcohol that permeated the halls of Wolf's Creek Community Hospital. I walked beside Mama towards the pediatric wing's game room. This was where we would set things up for the children's Christmas party. Mama and the rest of us spent the day baking and wrapping presents for the event. The children stuck in the hospital during the holiday looked forward to their visit from 'Santa Cullen' and his happy elves

Fearing his reaction to the smell of blood, Ben remained at the house while the rest of the family made its traditional Christmas journey. After a long day of activity, we packed the homemade cookies and a Santa sack full of toys and other gifts into two cars for the short 'sleigh ride' to the hospital. There were few truly magical things left in the world, but the way my family pulled off its Christmas miracle every year was one of them. I was determined to take it all in because this time next year I would be a crimson eyed newborn and therefore too unpredictable to trust around human blood.

Since the evening of our last Family Council when Papa let me chose my new birthday, all I could think about my upcoming retransformation. I had only two more days before Papa would start the process of returning me to immortality. Before he could bite me, he needed to filter the parasite from my blood. For the most part I was excited, but there was a small corner of me that was afraid.

It wasn't just thoughts of the fiery hell that I would endure for three days or the piercing pain of my father's bite that had me on edge. Those were things I had experienced before and, while I didn't relish them, I knew what to expect. It was the unknown parts that truly worried me; how would I turn out this time, what would I be like as a _reborn_ newborn. Just how much of my old vampire self was the product of _me _and how much was related to Cane's venom . . . how different would I be after my second transformation? Would I be the same person I was before, would I still be Sarah?

"Do you think I'll still be anemic?" I asked Papa who was trudging along behind us under the burden of the loaded Santa sack.

Over the past few days I'd bombarded him with anxious _'what if'_ questions. I avoided asking about the nitty-gritty things, the things that danced through my mind like ghouls in a graveyard and kept my tossing in my bed at night. Those things I kept to myself; I only skirted the edges of them with my questions. I heard Papa sigh from behind me, I could tell he was starting to grow tiered of my inquisition, but he continued to patiently answer each and every inquiry. His constant gentle reassurance was the only force keeping me from pulling my hair out by the roots.

"That's hard to say," he replied quietly. "You haven't showed any unusual signs since your return to humanity."

"What sort of unusual signs?" Mama inquired, she sounded worried.

"Well, Sarah's anemia seems to manifest itself through symptoms of pica; the desire to eat of non-food items." Papa answered. "Before, she craved human food. If she were showing signs of her peculiar form of anemia now it would stand to reason that she would likely be craving blood."

"So I'm cured?" Although Papa's treatments for my anemia worked, it would be nice not to have to ingest two pints of human blood every month in order to keep me from raiding the refrigerator.

"Again, it's difficult to say." He sighed as we came to a stop. When I heard him put down the sack I knew we must be in the children's game room. "As with your other questions regarding the after effects of you transformation: the likelihood of your blindness continuing and whether or not you will retain your ability to phase, I fear I cannot accurately answer you. You are a singularity Sarah, with anyone else I could make highly confidant predictions, but with you . . . all bets are off."

The small knot of fear that had become my constant companion over the past few days pulled a little tighter. During the long months when it looked as if a year was all the time I had left in this world, I only thought of being whole again. Not once had I considered what being whole might mean. I found my mixed emotions both confusing and frustrating.

Over the course of the past few days I tried to imagine what things might be like. I considered for example, the prospect of being sighted again. I wouldn't mind having my sight back, but there was a certain beauty in the way I saw the world through my sound vision. Images illuminated in a million points of golden light on a black velvet field could be quite breath taking and I would defiantly miss it.

The thought of losing my ability to phase; to change forms and become the massive panther of Choctaw legend, made my chest tighten with grief. There was no feeling on earth more intoxicating than coursing through the moon dappled forest at full gallop on silent feline paws; raw untamed power wrapped in soft tawny fur. I defended my honor against Jacob in a game of Quileute tag in my shifted form. As the panther, I saved my mother and father from destruction at the hands of William. The thought of losing that part of me made my heart hurt. I spent much of my quiet time over the past few days pleading with God to let me keep that part of me even if I kept no other.

"Kitten, is something wrong?" Papa was at my elbow, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't hear him approach. "If you're not up to this I can have one of your siblings drive you home. There's no need to feel badly about it, with everything that's going on right now it's understandable."

_It's Christmas and I'm going to be whole again by New Years day, I should be happy_, I thought. I should be celebrating in accordance with the festive spirit of the season. Instead I was moody and ruining a beloved Cullen family tradition with my sulking.

Before I could think of an answer for Papa, I heard him take a long deep breath as he took me by the arm and led me away from the game room. "Where are we going?" I asked when we were in the hall again, "The children will be expecting you."

"We have a few minutes yet," He replied kindly. "I thought we might take a stroll down to my office, it's not far from here. Perhaps with some privacy, you'll be more inclined to talk."

With the office door closed, I felt the weight of my father's expectation settle upon me like a cloak. He said nothing as he waited for me to gather my thoughts and present them. My mind buzzed like a swarm of flies; so many anxious thoughts and all of them begging to be freed at once time.

"Papa, I'm scared," were the words that finally managed to find their way out. "Please don't think I'm ungrateful. I know I should be happy . . . _I am happy_, but I'm so scared that things won't be the same this time and . . ."

Before I could say more, I was in his arms. "There, there now my child," he soothed into my hair. "I should have guessed this was the trouble, especially given the pantheon of questions you've been asking me of late."

"I shouldn't be scared, I should be happy," I squeaked into the folds of his oxford. "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you, sweetheart." He insisted as his hand stroked my hair. "Major life changes often bring with them a mixture of excitement and trepidation . . . it's quite natural."

For a time we stood together in silence as he continued to hold me. Finally Papa spoke, "Did I ever tell you about my coming to America?"

"No," I mumbled.

He released me slowly from his embrace and then guided me across the room. When we were both settled comfortably on his couch he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. For some reason, Papa didn't often speak about the details of his past.

"I was scared," he confessed, "Excited by the prospects that life in the new world could bring, but utterly terrified by them at the same time. In fact, I almost didn't get off the ship when it arrived in Boston harbor because I was so afraid."

"I have a hard time imagining you being afraid of anything, Papa." In my mind, my father was a bastion of strength and courage.

"Trust me, I am well acquainted with fear, Kitten," he assured me. "It is an unwelcome ghost that haunts me with annoying regularity. When I first arrived in this land, I feared that I wouldn't fit in, that I wouldn't find ample work as a doctor, that I would somehow expose myself," he paused before continuing with a chuckle, "That I wouldn't be able to rid myself of my dreadful English accent."

"It's not dreadful, Papa, I like it." His accent always made me smile when he let his guard down enough for it to slip out.

"So does your mother," he joked. "She says it's my only redeeming quality."

I found myself giggling and I could almost feel my father's warm smile.

"My point, sweetheart," he continued when my giggling died away. "Is that, it's alright to be afraid when a new situation presents itself and it's natural to feel a bit confused and overwhelmed at those moments. We all feel these things from time to time, even your old Papa."

"But what if nothing is the same," I finally decided to chase the ghouls from the dark shadows of my mind. If anyone had the power to dispel them, my father did. "What if I wake up from my transformation and I'm not _me_ anymore, what if I'm different . . . you know what if I'm not _Sarah_?"

There was a very pregnant pause before I heard Papa take a breath in preparation to answer me. "This is about more than simply whether or not you'll wake up blind or if you'll retain you gifts as a newborn." He remarked solemnly. "You're afraid your entire persona is going to change."

Papa managed to distill the very essence of my fears and I could only nod in response.

"Lay your fears to rest," he soothed. "While there are many things which I can't guarantee, from experience I can assure you of this; the kind of person you are as a human dictates the kind of vampire you become. All those things that make you who you are, that make you Sarah, transcend the changing process and come out intact . . . and even amplified . . . on the other side."

"You're positive," why I simply couldn't seem to believe my father's assurance was beyond me.

"Kitten, if I had any doubts what so ever in my mind concerning this matter, I would tell you," he insisted. "When you awaken on New Year's Day you will be my Sarah; my very courageous, sometimes obstinate, highly intelligent, deeply compassionate, and much beloved youngest daughter."


End file.
